Hostile Correspondence
by SWfangirl21
Summary: Straya Parker got herself into a heap of trouble when she bumped into Jim Moriarty on the streets of New York. Now she's the heart of Jim's plans to break the genius Sherlock Holmes. She has a feeling this could be the end, the time when she loses herself, her mind and those she loves dearly. She's about to lost everything. Sherlock/OC Starts at the end of Season 1.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **Hello everybody! If you've ever read any of my other stories before, welcome and I am so very sorry for having a tendency of not finishing them, I can only attempt to promise that it won't happen with this story, especially since I have so much time on my hands, meaning I have all summer to do absolutely nothing except attempt to get my permit and money from babysitting and watch amazing movies like "Star Trek" and shows like "Sherlock". I am writing this because, well, like you I love this show and I just couldn't help myself but come up with this story which I find to be pretty interesting but that's up for you to decide and me to discover after you tell me in a review ;) Anyhoozle, enjoy the ride and feel free to contact me with any questions.

**Disclaimer:** However much I wish to own this spark of ingenious; I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters or scenes that I may take from the spectacular show. I do however own my own character and ask that if you must use her in anything, to ask me first! Much thanks!

* * *

**Hostile Correspondence**

**Chapter 1: **

Insanity: The condition of being mentally deranged; easily brought to carry out actions that sane people would never be seen doing. Sometimes I wonder if I, after all this time of being so careful, have become insane. You wouldn't see it just by looking at my face and actions but then again, most people aren't observant enough to even see what's standing directly in front of them. I tend to be one of those individuals even though the people I surround myself with are the exact opposite. They all have a stroke of genius; a predisposition of expert knowledge on anything and everything. My boyfriend would be one of them.

Jim Moriarty, not the kindest fellow you would ever meet on the street but for some unknown, ludicrous reason I love him. I love him more than any sane person ever ought to and that's why I'm beginning to believe that maybe I have lost the bolts in my head. You know, gone of my rocker. I guess it wouldn't be surprising. Straya Parker off her rocker once again. I'll stop with the rhyming, sorry. I ran my long, feminine fingers through my dark red wavy hair and smacked my lips. My bright sky blue eyes stared off into the distance as Jim began to pace in front of me.

"Straya, darling, please don't do that. It boils my blood when you smack your lips like some unintelligent pikey," Jim mumbled, anger rising from his throat. I ceased all movements and just stared at him. We didn't exactly have the best relationship. He was a nutter who had a tendency of throwing punches at me when I didn't do something right and for some reason only known to God I worshiped the floor the man walked on.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, "Do you want me to leave and come back later? If it's a bad time I can always," he interrupted me before I could finish.

"No. I want you to stay… just where you are my dear," he smirked, staring at me now. I sat straighter and stared him in the eye, trying to force back my fears. Jim struts towards me before kneeling down at my feet and taking my hands in his. He began, "I have a beautiful idea, Straya. It involves you so I need to know if you will help me," I stared back at him and my strength was giving way, his eyes, so gentle now, so soft. My lips parted as I tried to put my wall back up but he began rubbing circles around my hands with his thumbs, sending shivers down my spine and I caved.

"Of course… what do you need?" my voice gentle as the wind. Then his devious smirk reappeared and I instantly regretted my decision.

"We are going to give birth to a storm. We are going to take down Sherlock Holmes."

* * *

Good god, Jim couldn't have picked a more restricting outfit if he tried. Then again, it was made to impress. The designer dress was light blue and was covered in tight ruffles that made a flattering statement. The cap sleeves were layered ruffles that gently touched my shoulders and a blue metallic ribbon was wrapped around my waste for a finishing touch. I was a present wrapped up in all of Jim's glory. These skin colored four inch heels were starting to become a pain in my ass but they did some great things for my walk. My deep red hair was flowing gently in waves past my shoulders and my mascara and black eyeliner definitely made a statement of their own. I was currently putting step one of Jim's plan into motion.

The Plan:

Make Sherlock Holmes notice you. Act like a bimbo but surprise him by your intellectual side and ensnare him with your skills of persuasion and fabrication. Walk away leaving him utterly confused.

Wait for him to contact you and find you. Don't worry, he will.

Befriend him, care for him, fight crimes with him, whatever gets you closer to Sherlock, do it.

Break his little heart.

Personally, it's all a little Hollywood for me but I had no doubt that it would work. Sherlock Holmes rarely left the apartment he shared with John Watson unless there was a case, which there weren't any at the moment so Sherlock would most likely be locked up. Unless, as Jim pointed out, he had a reason to leave. That's when Jim set his crimes into motion. His first victim has a bomb strapped to her chest and Sherlock had 12 hours to discover the riddle, Jim's riddle.

Both of the men came rushing out of 221B Baker Street. John was wearing normal attire: Jeans, a white button down and his black jacket. Sherlock, of course, was wearing his suit and a scarf, with a very excited smile plastered on his face. How disturbing is that? He actually gets off solving these things… Then again, I am dating a psychopath.

I stood up from my bench and sauntered to the men, pretending to be on my phone. With my head down, I glanced up with my eyes and saw them strolling towards me, I smirked. Then I ran right into Sherlock, successfully tripping myself into his strong arms. He managed to barely be knocked over by me while I was literally cradled in his arms so I wouldn't hit the floor from the fall. A look of surprise flashed on my face because it was time to act.

"I am so sorry, Sir!" I meekly apologized. He stood me up and quickly looked me up and down, observing me.

"No problem at all. Are you alright?" John asked concern obvious in his voice. I was about to reply when Sherlock interjected.

"You're a business woman from north east United States by the sound of your accent. Around 24 years old. You're in a committed relationship, a very good one at that and will probably be engaged soon and yet you still have the need to fall into men's arms so they will catch you. That makes you feel wanted and protected even though you have no need for it. You usually don't walk this way but since you wanted different scenery you decided this would be the most practical route to work. Your dress serves as a means to get attention, which you are certainly not failing at since it definitely accentuates your assets," Sherlock stopped as if he suddenly got very bored.

My mouth was a gap and all of a sudden I was extremely curious as to what Jim wanted with this man. He barely got anything right about me. Yet, that was my job and this meant that I was doing very good at it.

"Sherlock! Apologize, you're being extremely rude!" John gaped and turned to apologize to me once again. Sherlock was glancing at his watch, completely uninterested.

"No need to apologize. Almost everything you said was wrong anyway," I stated with confidence then began to stride past them. I felt a hand grip my arm and spin me around, yet not violently which surprised me.

"What do you mean I was wrong? I'm never wrong," Sherlock demanded, staring down at me. For a split second I broke character as I began to just stare at him in shock. Not only was he completely arrogant but did he actually believe he was almost God?

"You were wrong. I am 24 and I'm from New York but everything else you said is wrong. Good day Mr. Holmes," and with that I was off. I smacked my red lips together and smiled. Behind me I could hear the disbelief in Sherlock's voice and the anger in John's. Maybe Jim was right, this was going to be good fun.

* * *

**AN:** Wooo! That was fun! Uh, so I tried to put some English slang in there but I may have failed… Whoops. Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed the first chapter! I'm already working on the second so I should be posting that soon! The next chapter will be more exciting since this was simply a chapter to set everything up and tell you what's going on. Thank you for reading! Please review if you have the time! Good bye and Good night! - Jenna


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: **Thanks for those who read the story because it definitely means a lot to me! So here's the next chapter for "Hostile Correspondence." For this chapter and for the rest of the story I really have to thank my best friend Ereyna, who is also a "Sherlock" fan, and has been constantly helping me put the story together and giving me great ideas! I hope you enjoy this chapter and review to let me know what you think or give any positive pointers. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** However much I wish to own this spark of ingenious; I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters or scenes that I may take from the spectacular show. I do however own my own character and ask that if you must use her in anything, to ask me first! Much thanks!

* * *

**Hostile Correspondence**

**Chapter 2:**

Nine hours had passed since I first met the "magical and wonderful" Sherlock Holmes and I was wondering how the case must be going. One woman with a bomb strapped to her chest and the mysterious case of Carl Powers. Jim said it would be better if we didn't see each other in person much anymore just in case Sherlock or any one of his "friends" saw us together considering that wouldn't bode well for the plan. So, instead of seeing him I texted him regularly just to check in and he would text back, making me feel like a fool.

My phone vibrated in my pocked.

**SH solved the case. He's on his way to you now – JM**

Smiling victoriously, I jumped as a knock sounded at my door. I almost wanted to laugh but I smoothed out my dress and stalked over to my front door. Opening it I did indeed see Sherlock Holmes staring at me.

"Good evening Mr. Holmes," I smiled and motioned my hand to enter. He stepped through, throwing his jacket and scarf at me before sitting down on one of my chairs in the living room. "Can I help you?"

"I want to know how I got you all wrong Straya Parker," Sherlock was speaking fast, almost annoyed. I stopped hanging his clothes and turned to look at him, surprised.

"How did you know my name? More importantly, how did you find out where I live?" My voice unsure, I sat down next to him, trying to read his expression.

"That was easy. I asked around and made a few calls. You're a very popular woman Ms. Parker," he mentioned with indifference, "Now, tell me how I was wrong. I'm rarely wrong about people so how was I so off about you?" I opened my mouth but closed it again. Sitting back into my chair, I crossed my ankles and clasped my hands on my lap.

I stared right at him as I began to explain, "I'm a conman Mr. Holmes. I steal, I lie and I persuade people to do what I want them to do. Everything you saw earlier was a mirage, a lie." Sherlock nodded in understanding.

"Then who are you really?" Sherlock asked, perplexed. I smirked and let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head.

"Can't you figure that out by yourself? You are the great Sherlock Holmes after all, I do read John Watson's blog," I finished but Sherlock jumped to the edge of his chair, taking my hands in his and squeezing them.

"I can't read you. I don't know what it is but this never happens. I don't understand you at all, I can make out a bit but nothing I see is of any importance," He breathes out clearly frustrated. Taking his hands away from mine, he rubs them through his curly hair and slouches back into the chair. Wow, he is quite like a child, isn't he? I merely sat straighter and motioned for him to tell me what he knew.

He sighed then began, "As I said before, from your accent you're from New York and you're around 24 years old. You dress well but you don't dress for yourself, you dress up for someone else. He's someone who likes you that way; someone who controls you. So that has to be your boyfriend because you don't have family otherwise you wouldn't have such a dangerous profession. You care for the people you're close to which means you don't believe that your job could do any harm to your boyfriend and that means that he's either in the same business or even worse. The rest of you I don't understand. You have a lot of money yet you live in a dump like this," I looked around my tiny, rummaged flat before he continued, "You're obviously powerful so why stay in an unhappy relationship? You're very good looking so I'm sure men throw themselves at your feet. I don't understand why you would go into this business, what you want with me or why you walked by an exploded building this morning and didn't even turn." I froze and stared at him, masking my emotions to the best of my ability.

An exploded building? Oh god, Jim blew up a building on Baker Street. I didn't even notice because I already knew… I put a smile on my face.

"Very good Mr. Holmes," I seemed impressed.

"Please, call me Sherlock," he interrupted.

Staring at him I nodded and continued, "Sherlock… Well everything you started with was right. I dress up because my boyfriend likes me to. I stay with him because I love him even though the relationship is extremely abusive," I unconsciously touched my stomach where Jim had hit me the day before and I saw Sherlock flicker his eyes there too so I immediately removed my hand and cleared my throat, "My boyfriend Eric," I lied flawlessly, "took me into the business. He is much more dangerous than I am so no, I don't worry for his safety. I live here to keep a low profile and I walked by that building this morning because I grew up in the Bronx. Things like that don't even faze me anymore," I ended.

"Yes, but that still doesn't explain what you want with me," his eyes narrowed as he leaned his chin on both of his hands.

"What do you mean, what do I want with you? Since when did the world revolve around Sherlock Holmes?" I asked indignant. Sherlock began to laugh as he stood up.

"Don't be ridiculous, the Earth revolves around the sun, you know," he grabbed his coat and scarf and I looked completely dumbfounded. I read the blog; he didn't know that until Watson told him. Was… was Sherlock Holmes making a joke? He turned after dressing and nodded his head once. "I will see you soon Straya Parker. We'll be in contact," and with that he left.

I left to the bathroom not quite sure what to think. I stripped and placed my night gown on. The water ran warm from the sink and I splashed it gently on my face before rubbing soap in circles on my cheeks. I heard a beep come from my bedroom so I dried my face off and walked over to my bed. My phone was lit up with two new messages.

**I look forward to our next meeting - SH**

**8 hours. Sent a man to Columbia. Man with target in the middle of the city. Sleep well my dear. – JM**

I fell on my bed and my phone fell from my hand. What was I getting myself into?

* * *

Jim informed me that Sherlock had passed the next test with flying colors but that he had three more little surprises for him. Sherlock sent me texts when he had the time and kept asking when we could meet again. I never responded. I was still trying to figure out exactly how I wanted to act around him. The best lie is that surrounded by truth and everything, other than Jim's name, was the truth when I saw him last.

But, I also didn't want him looking too far into my past. That could lead to my family, my troubled life and Jim and I wasn't willing for that to happen. Whether it was because of my concern for Sherlock's safety or Jim's I wasn't 100% sure. I had to admit, the man was growing on me and I wasn't sure I liked that.

I phoned a dear friend of mine because I knew that she would likely have the answers to my complicated predicament. She usually did.

"Hello, dear," the sweet voice answered from the other end forcing a smile to burn bright on my face, "I haven't heard from you in far too long. How are you?"

Sighing I answered, "I'm confused my dear friend. I'm stuck."

She laughed, "You're always stuck Straya. I've never known a person who's more indented into her problems then you. I'm assuming you called for friendly advice so tell me your woes."

"Well," I began, "It's about Jim." I heard her sigh, "No, he didn't do anything, don't worry. It's also about another gentleman." I could almost hear her excitement radiating from the other end.

"Ooo, do tell! Has Ms. Parker been busy of late?" she teased.

"Oh God no! Nothing like that! I'm not interested in this other man. He's my current job. He's thoroughly intriguing and extremely intelligent and I have no idea how to act around him. If I make one wrong move then I will blow my cover and most certainly be sent right to hell by Jim and… and I'd rather not make him angry. Not again," I finished, fear evident in my cracked voice.

"Well, the best way to win a man is by striking his heart. You don't need to fall for him but he will believe you no matter how sketchy your actions are if you are deeply molded into his heart. It never fails," she smirks and I know she's right. I need to deceive Sherlock Holmes.

"You're right as always. Thanks for your help," I almost didn't want to hang up the phone but from the people talking in the background I could tell she was busy working.

"Any time love," and with that she was gone and I was alone in my dingy apartment once more, waiting for Sherlock to come looking for me. Then that's when I saw the news…

* * *

I slammed through Jim's door and screamed, "Jim! Jim Moriarty you get out here right now!" I turned every corner looking for my estranged boyfriend. "JIM!"

"What in the bloody hell are you screaming at Straya?" Jim's voice boomed, rising in anger as he spun around the corner from his room. I ran right towards him and slammed my fist into his chest.

"An old woman!? You killed an old woman Jim! She was blind and could barely leave her home! And the twelve other people in that building who died with it! What were you thinking?! What gives you the right to play God?!" I bellowed at him, hitting my fist over and over on his chest. Then, in a blink of an eye, he had my wrists squeezed unbearably tight in his hands and my back was slammed against the wall, his body looming over mine.

"Straya, darling, I am God. I am above every single one of you and I will do what I damn please, is that understood?" his voice completely menacing as his bright eyes stared hatefully down at me. I couldn't speak, I couldn't move because terror was controlling me and all I could do was shrink back into myself, my eyes wide in absolute horror and hope that he wouldn't kill me right where I stood. I was flung back harshly into the wall, my vision becoming blurred. "Is that understood!?" He barked. I flinched but nodded weakly. He let go of my wrists and I crumbled hopelessly onto the floor. He stepped over me and walked into the kitchen as if nothing had happened.

I shrunk back into myself and sat against the wall in an upright fetal position. My head was tucked in between my arms and I silently cried, the tears soaking the carpet below me. My body was violently shaking and I could barely breathe. My phone vibrated in my pocket and I raised my head slowly and pulled it out.

**I need to see you… now. The park in 20 – SH**

A reluctant smile appeared on my face as I slowly began to push myself up. I wiped the mascara from under my eyes and pushed my hair out of my face. I crept to the kitchen and leaned against the archway, my arms crossed protectively over my chest and my hair covering my eyes. Jim had his hands on either side on the sink and was staring down into it. His knuckles were turning white and I slowly snuck behind him, gently placing my hands on his shoulders. He instantly relaxed and leaned back into me. I wrapped my arms gently around his waist, interlocking my hands to hold onto him and laid my head on his back. His hands gently rest on top of mine and our breathing joined as one.

"I'm sorry…" he whispered, spinning around to wrap me in his arms. I rested my head on his chest and wrapped my arms around his back as his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer. He kept whispering, "I'm sorry," over and over again. Why couldn't it always be like this? This was the Jim I fell for, this is the Jim I love but he's so far lost into his own world, the world that he controls, that he doesn't know who he is anymore. He doesn't know his voice, his actions, and his mind. My Jim was lost long, long ago.

"I have to go, I have business," I mumbled softly into his shirt and I could feel him nod against me. I pulled away and he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to mine. I closed my eyes and moved my lips in time with his, savoring this precious, once in a lifetime moment. We parted and he lifted his head to peck my forehead before he sent me out the door.

I stumbled down the stairs, still a bit lightheaded from the beating earlier before heading to the park. It would take me about 10 minutes to walk there and I assumed Sherlock would probably already be waiting for me even though I was early.

It was dark out so not many people roamed the streets of London and personally I loved it that way. This way you could hear the wind wrestling with the green leaves and the gentle slap of your feet against the side walk. To me it was the music of the city; the music of life. I entered the park and instantly saw Sherlock sitting up straight at one of the benches watching the cars drive by. I slithered in next to him and stared with him.

The silence was deafening until Sherlock finally spoke in a voice so soft I barely thought he spoke at all, "It was my fault." My head snapped to look at him as my eyes were drowning in confusion.

"What was?" I asked, concerned at this strange change of attitude.

"The old woman died because of me," his voice only slightly grew in strength. The strain was almost unbearable to hear.

"How could her death possibly be your fault? I'm sure you did everything you could have done, Sherlock," I cooed, putting my hand on his shoulder in an attempt of comfort. A pained chuckle left his throat and it completely startled me.

"That's just it isn't it?" he asked, "I did do everything right. I solved the case but because she started to explain what his voice sounded like, he killed her. Boom, gone from the earth forever." I clenched his shoulder tightly ensuring that he was going to stay here with me and not go off somewhere into his mind. "I'm such a hypocrite," he scoffed, "I'm always telling John that it's a weakness to befriend someone, to feel compassion and empathy but even me, the heartless Sherlock Holmes, can't hide the fact that the death of a completely innocent woman is on my hands."

I turned his face towards me with my hands and cupped it with the other and spoke very slowly, "Sherlock, her death was not your fault. Listen to me. She died because this guy is a maniac and he was exposed and he couldn't have that. This twisted man, whoever he is, wants you to believe it's your fault but it's not. There was nothing you could have done differently that would have spared her life and the lives of the other people in that building. Do you hear me?" I asked, looking straight into his eyes. It took him a moment but he nodded at me and sighed looking down.

"Thank you. I don't know what came over me," his voice back to normal. I smiled gingerly at him as he stood up.

"It's alright. Everyone's allowed to have feelings we're human," I comforted, staring up at him. He turned his back to me and began to walk away.

"I don't have feelings. I'm a high functioning sociopath who's obsessed with murder, I don't have the time or energy to waste on feelings," and with that he walked away. My mouth hung slightly open and I watched him leave with a pang in my heart.

Sadly I completely understood as I whispered to myself, "We're all freaks in a world of machines," and with that I began my journey home.

* * *

**AN:** So, what did you think? This chapter was definitely longer than the first one so I hope you enjoyed that. I know Sherlock was slightly off character but I wanted to show the side that he only lets himself see to show how much Straya has had an effect on him. Also, I hope I showed the strain of Jim's character. He's sort of insane so I tried to play it out that way. And, who do you think the mystery friend is that Straya was talking to? You'll know soon, don't worry ;) Next time we'll be at the pool scene and the end of episode three! Don't forget to click the button below to review! Thanks for reading! - **Jenna**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: **Now here we are at chapter three! I don't have much to say other than this is a long one with a lot of stuff in it so we'll see how it goes! I can't wait for the next chapter because I think that one will be really fun to write! Alright, thanks again Ereyna for being so darn supportive and helping me out with the story line. I will be going out of town on Thursday so I probably won't be able to update till next week but don't worry, I'll probably already have two chapters done for when I get back cause I'll write a lot on the drive to Texas! Any who, enjoy the chapter and I'll see you all next time!

**Disclaimer:** However much I wish to own this spark of ingenious; I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters or scenes that I may take from the spectacular show. I do however own my own character and ask that if you must use her in anything, to ask me first! Much thanks!

* * *

**Hostile Correspondence**

**Chapter 3:**

Two days had passed and Sherlock had successfully solved each and every one of Jim's crimes with success. Nothing bad happened after the incident with the deaf woman and I, for one, was glad that it was all over. Jim gets extremely… touchy when he's bored and I hadn't seen him since that day at his apartment. The only evidence that I was there at all was the deep purple bruises around my wrists and a tear in my heart.

I was currently running a scam with friends of mine in Moscow and earning a lot of money. Essentially we were stealing money that was being transferred from banks to rich CEO's around the world and putting it into an offshore bank account which would then be put into our pockets. It's virtually undetectable and genius and we'd been doing it for months now. I already had enough cash to change my name, leave the country and live the rest of my life without ever lifting a finger again. Sadly, that was never going to happen with the devil on my back and a conscious. Well, as much of one as a thief like me could have anyway.

I was started by a knock at my door and logged out of my laptop, pushing it under the covers of my bed. It was 11:00 p.m. so I was in my nightgown, ready to head off to bed. I slipped on some slippers and pulled a silk robe over my shoulders and strolled over to the door. Jim was on the other side, a devious smile across his face.

"Jim," I said startled, "What are you doing here? I thought we were trying to be low key." He slipped passed me into my apartment and started looking around. I locked the door behind me and crossed my arms over my chest as a chill squirmed up my spine.

"Yes, well, that was until I changed a bit of my plan. Sherlock wants to meet. Tonight," Jim stated. With my mouth a jar I couldn't manage to find my voice so Jim continued, "And I want you to come with me. You won't be seen or anything but I would just love for you to be there for the turning point of the story. God, this place is a mess. Do you ever clean?" He fell onto a chair and closed his eyes, obviously bored.

"Uh, once a week. Why am I coming with you exactly? What if Sherlock sees me?" I questioned, not fully understanding the situation. Jim sneered at me and stood up.

"Well, wouldn't that be a damn shame, my dear?" He sniveled and then placed his hand on my lower back, pushing me into my room. "Now, we're going to get you dressed and then we're going to pick up a little gift on the way there, okay?"

"Uh, okay, I guess…" I stuttered, going to my closet, pulling out a red blouse and black skinny jeans. I stripped down and started to put my clothes on. Jim just stared at me, no expression on his face so I stopped, dropped my shirt and zipped my pants.

"You know, there was a time when we used to love each other. What ever happened to that life, Jim?" I begged, staring longingly into the past I longed for.

Jim snickered, "Darling, that life is dead and gone." I gulped and picked up my blouse, pulling it over my head then sitting on the bed next to Jim so I could pull on my knee length black boots.

"Oh? Then what about the other day at your house? Is that dead and gone too?" I asked timidly, pulling the zipper up to the top of my last boot then my hand was covered by his. He interlocked out fingers and his other hand trailed my arm up to my shoulder then down again until he hit my bruise where he stopped and lifted my hand up to his lips, kissing where my skin was dark.

He then murmured, "That's not love my dear, that's physical attraction," he then pulled me up by my wrists and I held back a yelp as I looked him in the eye. He put his forehead to mine and closed his eyes. "Just attraction," he whispered again and I breathed deeply before replying.

"I can make you love me again," my voice barely audible, "I can." The last I can was more for my assurance then his. My voice didn't exactly show conviction. Jim's eyes flew open as he took a step back from me.

"We will see. In the end, we will certainly see," and with that we were gone. I locked my apartment behind me before we went down the stairs and into his car. He handed me a scarf as he turned a corner down a familiar street. "Put it on," he ordered. I knew what he wanted, so I wrapped the scarf around my head, concealing my face and reached over to grab my sunglasses which I placed over my eyes before reaching over and grabbing his hand on the stick shift. He didn't turn but I could see his eyes flicker over to me and the briefest smile appear on his face.

Despite his large amount of cruelty to my emotions and my body I couldn't stop believing that there was a small bright light of good somewhere down inside him. All people are made from good and bad, that's why a good person can do bad things and a bad person can do good things but sometimes I wondered if there were people out there who just wanted to destroy the world and watch everyone in it crash and burn just because they were bored. Jim always said he's uneasy when he's bored, which is always. It's a never ending cycle.

I tried to buy him a rubrics cube as a joke once, thinking he'd enjoy it but he finished it in under a minute and then threw it at my head and screamed at me the rest of the night for being an idiot. I cried for hours and then by the end of the night we ended up in the same bed, his arms wrapped around me as if nothing ever happened. My best friend once said that he would be the death of me one day. That honestly wouldn't surprise me and yet here I am still trying to earn back his love.

It isn't what you would normally believe. I don't stay with him because I think no one else will ever love me or anything like that because I've been made other offers. I stay with him because there are loathsome, disturbing and revolting people out in the world that could do far worse to me and Jim keeps me safe.

When I was younger I never really had a family. My father was a drunk who married my drug addicted mother because she was pregnant with me. We lived in a one bedroom, one bath shack in New York. My mother was always bringing junkies home who would try to get a little too close to me. My father would beat me whenever I didn't do what I was told to do and they would both disappear for days on end and by the time they got back they were so damaged that I would have to take care of them even though I hadn't eaten in days.

One day, when I was 16 years old, they didn't come back. I grabbed what things I had, put them in a pillowcase and left knowing I'd never come back. That's when I met Scott Grace. There was nothing graceful or heavenly about Scott grace. He was a dealer and a thief who explains where I learned it all but I never went near the drugs with my past. One night, when I was 19, I was stealing this gorgeous diamond necklace and when I whipped around the corner into an ally to get away I crashed right into a young man. This man was Jim Moriarty. He pulled me into a room and we watched as the people chasing me ran by without a clue. Ever since then he's been protecting me from the big bad world.

I guess you can say that he's all I've ever known. I've never been in a proper relationship, a proper family or a proper friendship. Even my best friend is knocked up in the dangerous business of lies. We pulled into a parking lot and a man who was blindfolded was shoved into the backseat and we drove off without a word.

"Where am I?" the man asked, fear clearly evident in his voice. Wait, I knew that voice. I looked in the mirror and saw none other than John Watson. I turned to look at Jim, extremely confused. Jim merely smiled and didn't say a word. John didn't say another word even as we pulled up to the pool and Jim's snipers dragged him out.

Jim grabbed my arm harshly as he pulled me close to him so he could whisper, "Keep your face covered and stay behind us and Straya, I swear to God, if you interrupt in any way I will make your life a living hell, clear?" I shivered but nodded as I kept my head down and followed several feet behind Jim, his men, and John. We stopped around the corner and the men began to put a bomb around John and then put a tan jacket over that. I started to rush over but the menacing look Jim gave stopped me dead in my tracks. Tears began to well in my eyes and my hands covered my mouth and I slouched into a corner and watched the snipers run off to their positions.

John was then given a note and told to take his blindfold off as Jim dragged me away to another entrance into the pool area. I stared through the door window and watched as Sherlock raced through a door at the other side a gun swinging inside his coat. My heart jumped into my throat and I clutched at Jims who was simply smiling. John walked out at the complete disbelief and pain on Sherlock's face was enough to crack me. He thought that Moriarty was John, and the utter terror of his best and only friend trying to kill him was unthinkable. Tears began streaming down my face and Jim walked out to introduce himself.

I watched from the window as Sherlock pulled out his gun and pointed it at Jim. Jim didn't even flinch as he motioned for a sniper to aim right at John's heart. Dear God, help us. Jim walked closer and closer, no doubt taunting Sherlock when suddenly John got a hold of him and the sniper pulled back. For some reason I let out a breath of relief that I didn't know I was holding until a small red dot appeared on Sherlock's forehead. I grasped my scarf and held my breath. My body was shaking in disbelief and fear. Jim began walking towards me again, quite happy and I stepped away from the door, stepping back until I hit the wall and let the scarf fall slightly from my face, no longer concealing my nose or mouth.

Mascara was running freely down my cheeks and my whole body was shaking. Why did the chance of their deaths affect me so? I had just met Sherlock Holmes and I barely knew John Watson and yet, the thought of losing either was something inconceivable. I purposefully pushed myself away from people since I had been hurt so many times before. Jim walked through the door and stared at me. His face was blank as his eyes simply bored into mine, searching for my reason of concern until his face suddenly turned to pure anger. He ran towards me and lifted me off the ground my by shirt and slammed me against the wall before slapping me across the face.

"Do you cry for them?" he breathed out, pure rage in every word. All I could do was stare mortified up at him as more and more tears cascaded down from my eyes but no sound left my quivering lips. Sadly my eyes told it all and he dropped me harshly to the ground before spinning around on his heels and racing back outside to Sherlock and John.

"Sorry boys! I'm sooo changeable!" I heard him shout. Oh god, he was going to kill them… I grabbed my phone quickly out of my pocket and sent a message.

**S.O.S call Jim and tell him about the pictures! I need your help Irene! NOW! – SP**

I quickly texted my only friend in the world. Suddenly I heard Jim's ringtone "Stayin' Alive" playing and I could see clearly again. They all paused as Jim answered, seemingly calm. I heard him scream before calling off the snipers and the coming back out to grab be off the floor.

"We're going home," he was full of rage and he threw me into the car and raced off down the street. I had two minds at the moment. Sherlock and John were safe which left me in euphoria but Jim was angrier than I had seen him in years. He pulled up to his apartment and dragged me out of the car, doing his best to look civil in front of other people before slamming his door shut and tossing me to the ground. He raced into the kitchen and left me to my demise. I was no longer crying but my breathing was rapid and harsh as I lay discarded on the carpet.

I saw a delicate vase smash against the kitchen entrance and I flinched, staring at the intricate broken yellow pieces scattered along the floor. He never lost his cool in front of other people but in the safety of his home or in front of me it was a completely different story. As he appeared in the room again, his dark eyes bore into mine. His face was scrunched up in fury and his body was slightly shaking in rage.

"I specifically told you not to become entangled Straya and look what you go off and do!" Jim roared, thankfully staying where he was for the time being.

I croaked out a weak and pathetic cry, "I didn't mean to. I didn't even know I had felt that way until today! I just don't want to see them hurt Jim, they're good people, don't do this. Please, don't do this." His whole body seemed to go slack as he slowly stepped towards me and knelt down so he was staring right at me.

"Dear Straya," he mewed, "Sherlock Holmes is going to burn whether you help me or not. You're the one who's going to decide how long he'll be in the flames." With that he was gone and I was left staring blankly into the darkness of the apartment. I heard his bedroom door slam as I pulled myself over to the couch. I was far too weary to make it come so I laid my head on the armrest and pulled out my phone once more.

**Thank you – SP**

It took mere seconds for her to reply.

**I'd do anything for my dearest friend. Just stay alive and I will do the same. Goodnight sweet friend – IA**

I sighed, at least she was alright. As I closed my eyes images of Sherlock, John and Jim filled the darkness.

* * *

When I woke the next morning Jim was already gone but he left a note to say he was sorry and that he would see me when he needed to check in on our Sherlock progress. The cereal I made was already soggy and the coffee was far too bitter but it did its job on waking me up from my restless night's sleep.

I grabbed the newspaper and read the headlines. I shook my head as I read all the sad news that always seemed to plague the world we lived in. All over the paper the headlines were filled with death, disease, drugs and crime. Sure, I was a conman but at least I didn't kill people to get what I wanted.

After washing the dishes I went to take a shower in an attempt to wash off the filth from the events of last night before seeing I had a text from Sherlock.

**I want to see you. My place in 30 – SH**

Well, this was a change of scenery. I was going to Sherlock Holmes apartment. Now this was a special occasion. Opening my closet, I searched around for something to wear. It was slightly cold outside so a dress or skirt was out of the option. Unless… I took out my high rise black skirt and a lacy, long sleeved white shirt. I opened my dresser drawers and pulled out some black polka dot, lace stockings and pulled them up my legs. I slipped on my shirt and pulled the top of my skirt over the bottom of my shirt. I pulled on my deep red wedge heel boots and finished my make up before pulling my wavy hair into a ponytail. I looked in the mirror and was very pleased.

On my way out I grabbed my black coat and locked the door. When I was out on the streets the crisp air caressed my cheeks and I smiled at the children that raced by me, a frazzled mother close behind. One day… I would love to have children…

It only took me 15 minutes to reach 221B and I hit the buzzer. After a minute of no one answering I buzzed again until a sweet old woman answered.

"Hello dear! I'm very sorry; Sherlock seems to be occupied with other things so he couldn't come to the door. I'll take you up now," she smiled kindly at me. I instantly liked this woman. I followed her as she began to ramble on about silly things but I smiled, thankful for the kindness and company.

"Oh, how dreadful, I haven't introduced myself! I'm Mrs. Hudson the land lady," she introduces herself.

I shake her hand as I reply, "It's very nice to meet you Mrs. Hudson. My name is Straya Parker. I'm a friend of Sherlock's." She looks surprised as I say friend but she doesn't say anything about it. She points me to his apartment and I let myself in.

I could already hear the raised voices from outside the door but my suspicions for proven correct as I opened the door. John and Sherlock were arguing. More like John was chastising Sherlock and Sherlock was simply not paying any attention to what he said but simply insisting that it didn't matter and that he was right.

"Why do you feel the need to write the blog anyway? Won't it just cause trouble for me?" Sherlock questions.

John huffs before replying, "Of course all you think about is how MY blog affects YOU. Did you even stop to think that maybe me typing what's happening in my life helps?" Sherlock raises his eyebrows and shakes his head.

"John, there is nothing wrong with you. At first I can see why your therapist would offer a blog to help with the emotions and rage of war but honestly John, you haven't had nightmares or even talked about it since you've met me," Sherlock tries to reason, still completely uninterested.

"That's because all of my problems are now you!" John yells, running a tense hand through this short hair. I cleared my throat and both the men quickly turn to look at me.

"Sorry for the interruption," I begin, "I can always come back later Sherlock if now is a bad time." I start to step backwards but John sighs before walking towards me.

"No, don't go on my account. Please, come in and I'll start some tea," John offers, leading me into the flat. I offer him a kind smile as he leaves off to the kitchen smiling at me and then glaring at Sherlock.

When John was out of earshot I turned to Sherlock and whispered, "Just let him write his blog Sherlock, he's not doing any harm to you and it's good for him to let his feelings out." Sherlock was about to talk back before I glared at him and he shut his mouth before giving up and just sitting down next to me.

"Fine but I still think it's ridiculous," he mumbled and that made me giggle slightly.

John walked back in and struck up a conversation, "So, what brings you to our lovely abode Straya? That is your name if I remember correctly." I laugh and nod at him.

"You have a good memory Doctor Watson," I praise. John sits across from me as I continue, "Sherlock asked me to come here to visit if that's okay with you."

John sends me a brilliant smile, "Yes, of course! I had no idea you two kept talking after our meeting on the street."

Sherlock takes this time to interrupt, "We've had a few conversations. I actually brought her here to talk about Moriarty." I did my best not to visibly stiffen.

John's eyebrows furrowed and he asked, "Why are you asking her about Moriarty?"

"She's a conman. Maybe she knows him," he explains before turning to me, "Do you happen to know a man by the name of Moriarty?"

I try to act slightly concerned because I know right away that any person of importance who involves themselves in crime would know about Jim so I whip up a quick lie, "Only by reputation. He's sort of a criminal's manager. He contacts people to do the rough jobs so he or his clients don't have to. In return he usually gets phenomenal information on certain objects and people of interest. Why do you ask?"

Sherlock stared at me for a while, judging on if I was lying before he leaned back, obviously deciding that I was telling the truth before answering, "He tried to kill John and I last night. He was the one behind the bombings." I turned my head to the ground pretending to be surprised, but in all honesty I was trying really hard to hide the shame behind my eyes. I didn't want to think about last night or ever speak of it again.

I looked up and said, "I'm glad you two left unharmed! He's said to be an extremely dangerous man."

"We almost didn't make it out. I think chance or fate somehow saved our lives in there," John muttered obviously still in shock from it all.

"You know, if he's taken an interest in you he probably won't stop until he's satisfied. Most of the time that means…" I stopped as Sherlock and John both faced me.

"It means what?" John asks softly.

I'm about to answer when Sherlock interrupts, "He's going to kill us." I nodded and then turn to stare out the window. Two yellow birds were flying around, teasing each other. Both dove to the ground and didn't come back up. Yes… that usually means death.

* * *

**AN:** Woot woot! Chapter three is up and running! So the mystery friend was Irene and Jim is still a nut head. Next time we'll be formally introduced to Irene and I'll be writing one of my favorite scenes from the series! Thanks for everyone who followed and favorited this series, I can't wait to see what becomes of it all! Thanks again and don't forget to review! - **Jenna**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: **So, I lied. I got one more chapter out before I left because I really didn't want to leave you guys waiting for so long because that's pretty cruel. So, for you wonderful people, I stopped playing Star Wars: Old Republic for a while and decided that you all were more important! I think this is definitely going to be my favorite chapter because this is one of my favorite scenes in the whole series. You won't see a lot of Jim for a bit but little glimpses maybe because I really want to focus on Sherlock, John and Straya's relationships. Thanks for reading!

**Disclaimer:** However much I wish to own this spark of ingenious; I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters or scenes that I may take from the spectacular show. I do however own my own character and ask that if you must use her in anything, to ask me first! Much thanks!

* * *

**Hostile Correspondence**

**Chapter 4: **

I woke up to sunlight gently peeking through my window blinds and shaking me awake. I rolled over away from the window and groaned. I was plagued with nightmares racing through my mind all night so I didn't sleep very well. I tossed and turned and occasionally woke up screaming. These nightmares had been happening ever since that night that Jim almost killed Sherlock and John. I keep imagining these horrific ways that Jim is going to make their demise and it keeps me awake.

Yawning, I pushed myself out of my pearl white covers and placed my feet firmly on the floor. I adjusted my lilac night gown as I stepped out into the kitchen, turning the light on as I walked. I pulled the fridge open and grabbed the milk before closing it and grabbing Fruit Loops off the counter. I could already tell this was going to be a rough morning.

I grabbed the newspaper and looked at the front page. Sherlock and John were on the cover hiding under hats and covering their faces with their coats. That brought a smile to my face. Sherlock sure did hate publicity. A knock sounded at my door and my eyebrows furrowed.

Walking over I was sure I didn't invite any company over today considering my friends are limited and I hadn't talked to Jim in ages.

As I opened the door two men in black suits stood before me.

"Straya Parker?" the tall blonde asked.

I nodded, "Yes that would be me. What can I do for you gentleman?"

"We need you to get dressed and come with us ma'am," the other stated.

"Okay…" I muttered confused, "Where are we going?"

"Just get dressed ma'am and you'll know when we arrive," the blonde ordered almost like a machine. I raised my eyebrows but went back inside, motioning them to follow. I heard the door close and I stalked to my bedroom.

They're obviously from the government otherwise they wouldn't be so sensitive and the dog hair on the blonde suggests that his job comes with a small dog which means the queen. Huh, that's interesting…

I pulled on my black pencil skirt, a mint colored cap sleeve blouse and my black high heels. I straightened out my hair and pushed it back into a bun with loose curls cascading around my face before applying eye liner, mascara and lipstick. I sprayed a bit of perfume on before walking back out to the guards and followed them out to their car.

The car ride was excruciatingly silent as I sat in the back seat, the guys in the front. I watched out the window as all of London seemed to pass by me. People in the park, students on their bikes and businessmen with their suits and ties. What it must feel like to be so normal. To wake up in the morning, go to work, come home and see your family and go to sleep only to know that the next day you were going to wake up and do it all over again. I believe that's why I never wanted a normal life. I didn't want to die or live in an ordinary way. I always wanted to go out with a boom.

We pulled through the palace gates and up to the front steps. The blonde opened my door and both men escorted me inside. I could briefly see John ahead of me and I quickened my pace before calling out to him.

"John!" I spoke loudly, trying not to yell in the heart of London. Thankfully he heard and turned with his one guard. As soon as he saw me a look of confusion fell over his face but was quickly replaced by a joyous look and a smile.

"Straya! What in earth are you doing here? I assumed Mycroft Holmes was trying to pull a ridiculous act with me again," John stated and I laughed heartily. Sherlock and John had told me all about Mycroft's antics and how he was always stealing John off the streets before going to some off location to talk about something that could have been settled over the phone or even through a text. My guards left and the one who was with John continued leading us to our destination which proved that John and I were in fact here for the same reason.

"I assumed I was here because I finally got caught from all the trouble I'm always causing," I giggled and John laughed as we walked side by side.

"Well, we can't both be right," John pointed out and I nodded.

"That's true," I started, "But there is only one way to find out." That's when we stopped and the man showed us our destination. Surprisingly Sherlock Holmes was already sitting on a very antique, intricate couch… in only a white sheet. I felt the blood rise to my cheeks and I could see confusion and humor or Johns face.

Sherlock turned to look at us both. John made a gesture that simply stated "What are we doing here?" and Sherlock made an extremely sassy shake of his head and lift of his shoulders saying he had no idea. He wasn't even a bit curious as to why either of us were here as well. Both John and I walked over as I sat next to Sherlock and John next to me. We were all very silent until I could see John grinning from the side of my vision as he looked Sherlock up and down.

"Are you wearing any pants?" John asked in a very calm voice.

Sherlock quickly replied, "No."

Which John answered, "Okay…" and we all looked at each other before we burst out laughing. "We're in Buckingham Palace, alright," John muttered still completely shocked by it all. I scoffed and smiled brightly at Sherlock who smiled softly back. "I am seriously fighting an impulse to steal an ashtray," John admitted and that brought the laughter back.  
"Do it now or forever hold your peace," I muttered and winked at John who laughed at me.  
"What are we doing here Sherlock? No seriously, what? And what would they want with an underground criminal like Straya? No offence…" John apologized and I smiled.

"None taken," I assured and the Sherlock examined the room.

"I don't know," he stated and that would probably be the only time we would ever hear that from Sherlock Holmes.

"Are we here to see the queen?" John questioned right before Mycroft walked in, who I looked at with a smirk.

"Oh, apparently yes," Sherlock joked and that sent the three of us bursting into laughter once again. I had to hold onto my stomach I was laughing so hard. Mycroft glared at the three of us before walking in.

"Just once can you three behave like grownups?" Mycroft asks quite serious.

"She's a master thief, we solve crimes, I blog about it and he forgets his pants so I wouldn't hold out to much hope," John voices.

Sherlock takes this time to speak up, "I was in the middle of a case Mycroft." I turn to look at him as my eyebrows raise saying "Why didn't I know about this?" to which Sherlock simply shook his head. Oh, it's an easy case. That makes sense.

"What? The hiker and the backfire? I glanced at the police report, bit obvious surely," Mycroft remarks as John begins to look terribly confused.

"Transparent," Sherlock answers.

John is utterly lost which makes me smile but before he can say anything Mycroft continues, "Time to move on then." He picks up Sherlock's clothes and holds them out to him to which Sherlock just turns away. Mycroft sighs in frustration but he isn't really surprised which means this is a normal occurrence between the siblings. I turn to Sherlock who is looking right at me and seems completely uninterested but I know right away that it's only a show to put on to annoy and embarrass his older brother. I try to look at him and force some sense but I can see the stubbornness in his eyes.

"We are in Buckingham Palace, the very heart of the British Nation, Sherlock Holmes put your trousers on," Mycroft commands, clearly annoyed.

"What for?" Sherlock shrugs and I heave in a sigh. Here we go the sibling rivalry.

"Your client," Mycroft announces as Sherlock stands to face him.

"And my client is?" Sherlock asks as another man walks through the entrance of the room.

"Illustrious in the extreme, and remaining, I must inform you, entirely anonymous," the new addition to our party divulges as John and I both stand in respect to greet him. "Mycroft," the man greets.

"Harry," Mycroft responds while shaking Harry's hand, "May I just apologize for the state of my younger brother.

"Full time occupation I must imagine," Harry insults and I send daggers from my eyes at him as my hand subconsciously grabs hold of Sherlock's sheet in protection and assurance. Sherlock looks down at me in confusion but I secretly send a small smile of affirmation his way. "This must be John Watson. Formally of the 5th Northumberland fusiliers," Harry greets.

"Hello," John asserts, shaking Harry's hand, "yes." John looks slightly uncomfortable with the situation as I grab tighter to Sherlock and he slightly leans into me for comfort.

"My employer is a big admirer of your blog," Harry reveals and that makes me smile. The Queen of England, a fan of John Watson's blog.

"Your employer?" John questions.

"Mm," Harry confirms, "Particularly enjoys the one about the aluminum crutch." John thanks him and then looks at Sherlock as if to brag that the queen enjoys reading his blog which to this Sherlock simply rolls his eyes. "Straya Parker I presume?" Harry introduces as I simply nod, "It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person. I hope we will be able to cooperate in the future and leave all the nasty thievery business behind us." I hold back a scoff and simply smile with a great amount of sarcasm to which he ignores and moves on, "And," Harry continues as Sherlock continues to look anywhere but at Harry, "Mr. Holmes the younger. You look taller in your photographs," Harry insults and I clench my hands and jaw to keep from taking a swing at this jack ass.

"Take the precaution of a good coat and a short friend. Mycroft I don't do anonymous clients," Sherlock recites as he begins to leave, his sheet tightly wrapped around him, "I'm use to mystery at one end of my cases, both ends is just too much work. Good morning." He begins to walk away but Mycroft turns and steps on the sheet. It begins to slump from his shoulders and down his back. I get a swift glimpse of his butt before he catches the sheet and wraps it securely around his waist, obviously frazzled.

John looks away quickly in embarrassment from Sherlock's behavior while Harry merely stares.

"This is a matter of national importance. Grow up," Mycroft's voice softens.

"Get off my sheet!" Sherlock growls.

"Or what?" Mycroft challenges.

"Or I'll just walk away," Sherlock finalizes and it wasn't until then that I noticed my mouth was hanging open and I was openly staring at Sherlock Holmes. The image of him half naked in front of me was most likely going to be indented into my mind forever and to be honest, I was okay with that. It wasn't a bad view. I shrugged to myself and nodded. Not bad, not bad at all Sherlock Holmes. That's when I slapped myself out of it and focused into the conversation at hand.

"I'll let you," Mycroft taunts and this brings a smirk to my face. Inside I'm cheering for Sherlock to just walk away but deep inside I know he won't.

"Boys please not here," John says as the final voice of reason and I almost want to curse him for it. That was so close…

"Who is my client?" Sherlock hisses making sure every word is very precise.

"Take a look where you're standing and make a deduction. You are to be engaged by the highest in the land. Now for God's sake, put your clothes on!" Mycroft challenges and I could almost see Sherlock give in. He turns around and walks back towards us before snatching his clothes and turning the corner to find a place to change. The tension leaves the room with him and both John and I look at each other in relief as we both sit down again in our respectable places.

It was pretty quiet other than Harry and Mycroft whispering in the corner in raised voices. They were obviously trying to figure out how to go about it all.

I turned to John, "I still don't understand why I'm here. Sure, you two could solve this is seconds but I don't solve crimes, I commit them." John laughed slightly at the comment.

He nodded his head in agreement before saying, "I'm stumped as well to be honest. The really weird thing is they're not arresting you." I smirked and scoffed before leaning back into the couch and crossing my legs at the ankles.

"They don't have anything on me. They know who I am and what I do but they have no way to prove it and they never will because the guys I work with will take that information to the grave. If they are arrested, they're buried so deep that even if they did cheat me out then they would probably still be in prison for life and they know not to upset my allies and that I am far better out of jail and alive then in jail or dead," I finished. John nodded in understanding.

"That part makes sense now but you're right, why would they want a master criminal in Buckingham Palace? Aren't you tempted to just steal something?" John smirks as he looks at me.

"Very, and that's why I snagged something on the way in," I whispered, slightly pulling the beautiful medal out of my pocket before stuffing it back in. John was smiling so big it seemed like it hurt and he was trying really hard not to laugh so we both looked down at the floor, trying not to pull attention towards us.

Sherlock stalked back in and the three boys sat down as tea was brought in and placed on the table before us.

"I'll be mother," Mycroft states, smiling at Harry as he begins to poor the tea.

"And there is a whole childhood in a nut shell," Sherlock insults. Mycroft glares daggers at his brother and I reach over and put my hand on his leg, telling him to cool it a bit.

"My employer has a problem," Harry begins, breaking the tension as Mycroft sits back, obviously done with Sherlock's antics and attitude.

"A matter has come to light with an extremely delicate and potentially criminal nature," Mycroft adds, "And in this hour of need, dear brother, your name has risen."

"Why? You have a police force of sorts, a marginally secret service, why come to me?" Sherlock ponders.

"People do come to you for help don't they Mr. Holmes?" Harry interjects.

"Mm," Sherlock hums, "Not to date, anyone with a navy." This sarcastic statement brings a smile to John and my face to which the other two chose to ignore.

"It's a matter of the highest security therefore of trust," Mycroft answers.

"You don't trust your own secret service?" John implores, confused.

"Would you?" I interject to which John stops and then nods his head in agreement.

"Naturally not. They all spy on people for money," Mycroft officially answers and I nudge John in a "See?" sort of action to which he smiles and continues with the conversation.

"I do think we have a time table," Harry retorts as Mycroft agrees.

"Sorry to intrude in a delightful conversation but I am still enormously confused as to why I am here in the first place? I'm not part of the A team over here so why make me come all this way? To watch siblings fight and observe the light of royalty?" I declare finally asking what had been on my mind since dumb and dumber showed up at my door early this morning.

"You, Ms. Parker, are here because you know the woman we are going to contact," Harry confirms and I relax back in my chair. I bring my intertwined hands to my mouth and have my pointer fingers touching my lips. My eyebrows are furrowed in thought as I go through the list of people I know in my mind trying to figure out who it is they're talking about.

"Irene Adler," I state for it is not a question. She told me about a certain royal someone coming around every now and then and she's the only one who could cause this much trouble.

Both Mycroft and Harry look surprised as Mycroft spurts out, "How… how did you know?"

"Easy," I begin, "I don't exactly have a line of friends and my line of female friends is even shorter. I am in constant contact with Irene because she's a very dear friend of mine so of course she's told me about a little someone coming to see her in the night. She's the only person who you couldn't get to yourself without causing issues and the only woman I know who could get the royal nation to call upon Sherlock Holmes." All four men looked at me dumbfounded and I stood up. "Now, if you brought me here so I could betray my friend and send her to you then you are sorely mistaken. We don't have many good friends in this world Mr. Holmes and I plan on keeping the ones who actually matter to me. Now, thank you for interrupting my quiet morning by taking me out of my house to waste my time sitting around here talking to you two. Sherlock, John, I am very sorry but I'll have to call you later. Good morning," I finished and turned to walk out.

"What if we paid you!?" Harry pleaded which stopped me dead in my tracks. I could hear both John and Sherlock's sharp intakes of breath because they knew that was a terrible idea.

I turned back and faced him, "The day I betray my family for money is the day I die. Have a pleasant day," and with that I took off down the hallway and a man in a suit was there to escort me out.

Once I was safely outside the gates and on my way home, I pulled out my phone and began to write a text to Irene.

**Looks like you did it this time. I was just invited into Buckingham Palace in hope that I would give you up – SP**

I continued to walk down the road until I reached a good place to stop and hail a cab. A cab pulled over immediately and I told him my address. My phone vibrated and I looked down and smiled at the text Irene sent back.

**Fools. Never ask someone to betray their family. Who are they sending instead? – IA**

I quickly replied.

**Sherlock Holmes. Don't get cocky on this one Irene. He's not a person you want to underestimate. He's practically Einstein – SP**

**And I'm Kryptonite – IA**

I burst out laughing before I replied.

**That's superman Irene. If you're going to make a movie reference at least get it right –SP**

**You know what I mean! Thanks for the heads up dear. Much love! I hope to see you soon ;) – IA**

**You can count on it. What are you going to wear btw? –SP**

**My battle suit of course – IA**

**Lucky boy ;) - SP**

* * *

I was staring at my closet trying to figure out just what I wanted to wear to John and Sherlock's Christmas party. Apparently their other friends would be there so I didn't want to make a bad impression. Jim said for the plan to work I had to make everyone and everything in Sherlock's life to like me. Then I saw it, my secret weapon.

The dress was floor length and full of gold jewels and studs. A slit came up the middle between my legs and stopped above my knees. Half of the elbow length sleeves were skin colored tool and that continued in a deep sweetheart neckline. The top of the dress came across my collarbone in a square fashion and I had a gold belt tied securely around the middle. I put on nude strap heels and pulled on a beautiful white coat that fit perfectly.

My hair was down and it flowed perfectly around my shoulders and down my back. The red of my hair contrasted perfectly with the gold of my dress and I smiled at my reflection. My lips were deep red, my blush fair, and my eyeliner simple but bold and my mascara put the finishing touch on. I sprayed on perfume that spelt like sugar and sunshine if you can imagine that sort of smell. Everything was perfect! I grabbed my bag and put Sherlock's, Mrs. Hudson's and John's present in there before locking up and calling a cab.

From what Irene told me, the encounter between her and Sherlock was very interesting. She seemed to be a little too intrigued by him. Supposedly some American CIA agents came in and threatened to shoot them before Sherlock punched in the code which I find hilarious because they were Irene's measurements. That means Sherlock Holmes must have been looking in all the right places. The night had ended with Sherlock being drugged and smacked but all in all, I think it was a very memorable first meeting.

The cab pulled up and I paid before stepping out into the crisp air. I walked up since the door was open and was greeted by Sherlock playing "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" on his violin which sounded absolutely melodious. His back was turned to me, as was everyone else and I just watched on in amazement as he played so smoothly. It's not as if the song was extremely difficult but the way he played it brought a smile to my face. He finished with a little fiddle at the end and Mrs. Hudson cheered.

"That was lovely Sherlock, just lovely!" She praised as Sherlock did a little bow and John handed them some tea. I clapped lightly and smiled at him. His face lit up as soon as he saw me and he placed his violin and bow on the table before racing over to me. I wrapped my hands around his neck and he pulled me in for a hug. I think he's grateful that someone came who he could actually have a conversation with. I laughed and kissed his cheek.

"That was beautiful," I agreed as I took off my coat and hung it over the chair and placed the bag on the floor next to it.

He stepped back and just stared at me for a second, his mouth slightly open and from the corner of my eye I could see John and his friend, who must be Lestrade, doing the same.

"Come; introduce me to your friend!" I brought them back to reality as he introduced me to Greg.

"It's very nice to meet you Straya," Greg says politely as he kisses my hand. I giggle and nod before giving John and Mrs. Hudson a hug and meeting John's current girlfriend, Jeanette.

"Oh Sherlock, I wish you could have worn the antlers!" Mrs. Hudson marvels and I laugh.

"Antlers? Oh yes Sherlock, please do wear the antlers!" I tease as I send a wink his way.

He winks at me before turning back to Mrs. Hudson, "Some things are better left to the imagination, Mrs. Hudson. Oh no, none for me Sarah." I could see Jeanette instantly become uncomfortable before John walks over to hold her.

"Oh no, he's not good with names," John begins to apologize.

"No, I can get this who are you?" Sherlock asks.

"Nobody…" Jeanette answers, obviously uncomfortable and I feel instantly bad for the girl. She just happened to get the boyfriend who's practically married to his best friend.

"No, I can get this," and then Sherlock begins to count off a list of names before shouting, "Jeanette!" Oh God Sherlock stop, you're making it worse. I could see John visibly blush and Jeanette was not a happy camper.

"Hello everyone!" a bright young woman walks in with loads of gifts and by process of illumination I know it's Molly Hooper, the one who works with Sherlock at the morgue. Sherlock doesn't seem happy by the new appearance so I try to get his attention so he won't be such a drag but he won't stop looking at Molly in disapproval.

"Hello Molly!" Every one greeted and I stood so I could introduce myself. I walked over and shook her hand.

"Hello Molly, I'm Straya Parker a friend of John and Sherlock," I smiled and realization comes over her face and she drops her gifts on the ground next to the chair and begins to take off her coat.

"Oh yes! Sherlock and John have said so much about you!" Molly smiles and I instantly like her.

"Oh goodness. That doesn't sounds good," I wink and she laughs with me as I look over at Sherlock with anger because he's complaining by mumbling on about something ridiculous but he ignores me.

Molly takes off her jacket and looks fabulous in a short black dress with diamonds on the top and thin black and diamond spaghetti strap sleeves. Her hair looks wonderful and her red lipstick could almost match mine. Greg is gaping at her and I smack his arm and wink at him so he knows to stop.

Molly was staring at Sherlock but he was preoccupied on the computer and I knew at once. Molly had a crush on Sherlock… but Sherlock was Sherlock and he didn't have a clue. He may be a genius about crimes and peoples way of acting and life but he had no clue about romance, friendship or being social or polite. I placed my hand on Molly's shoulder and gave her a reassuring look. Greg asks her if she wants a drink and John and Sherlock are talking about his blog.

I sit down next to Janette and try to strike up a conversation. We talk about John and her job, I neglect to mention mine, and have a very pleasant conversation. She's definitely a nice woman. John should keep this one but knowing that the past repeats itself she'll be gone by the end of the week.

Molly starts a conversation with all of us, being friendly and Sherlock is, of course like always, blowing all the happiness down the drain pipe and I almost want to smack him. He's being extra atrocious today.

"First time she's off the booze," John states, happy about Harriet finally being able to stop drinking.

"Nope," Sherlock mutters.

"Shut up Sherlock!" John rages and I have a feeling this is going to turn out horrible by the end of the night.

"I see you have a new boyfriend Molly and you're very serious about him," Sherlock states and I can see the look of shock on Molly's face so no new boyfriend otherwise she'd be happy about it.

"What?" she almost chokes on her wine.

"In fact you're seeing him this very night and giving him a gift!" Sherlock exclaims.

"Take a day off," John mumbles and I chuckle softly to myself as John smiles at me.

"Sherlock, have a drink," Greg presses as he sets a glass in front of him.

"Oh come on, surely you've all seen the present at the top of the bag. Perfectly wrapped with a bow. Someone special then," Sherlock walks over to examine it closer and I gently gasp and a look of pure horror appears on my face as I know what's about to happen. John looks confused at me and I cover my mouth with my hand waiting for the inevitable. "The red matches her lipstick, either an unconscious decision or one she's deliberately trying to inspire either ways Ms. Hooper has love on her mind," Sherlock mocks, "She's serious about him it's clear because she's giving him a gift at all."

Now John begins to see it too because his look goes sour and Molly is rigid and extremely uncomfortable, the tears that won't dare spill begin to gather in her eyes as she clutches to her wine glass.

"The present represents that it's going to be long term. Her makeup and the way she dressed is evidence that she's seeing him tonight because she's trying to compensate for her mouth and breasts," Sherlock carries off as he reads who the present is meant for.

"You always say such horrible things," Holly chokes out, "Every time, always, always…" Everyone in the room looks saddened or upset at Sherlock's actions and all I want to do is hold Molly Hooper and make her feel better.

Sherlock begins to walk away but he turns back and looks her in the eye while saying, "I am sorry, forgive me," while she looks at him sadly and John looks completely taken aback by the apology. "Merry Christmas Molly Hooper," Sherlock mutters before giving her a kiss on the cheek and then the moment is ruined by a moan that comes from their direction.

Molly looks completely horrified and my eyebrows rise as everyone in the room looks shocked except John.

"No that wasn't, I didn't," Molly tried to explain as Sherlock shook it off.

"It was me," he explained.

Greg gasped and said, "What no, really?" which brought a laugh out of me. Irene told me about her little trick on Sherlock.

"That is brilliant," I chuckled.

"It's my phone," Sherlock explained and I was still slightly laughing on the couch.

"57," John states slightly uncertain.

"Sorry, what?" Sherlock questions.

"57 of those texts from the one's I've heard," John clarifies and I nod impressed at his interest and attention towards the issue.

"Nice," I praise and John smiles at me.

"Thrilling that you've been counting," Sherlock mumbles as he struts over to the fireplace pulling out a present. He excuses himself from the room and the rest of us are left to our own demise. I take this time to stand up and walk over to Molly.

"I am so sorry about that. I knew right as he started talking that he was going to find his name written on that and he always has a tendency of taking things too far," I apologize.

"You knew how I felt about him? How?" Molly implores.

"You were staring at him after you took your coat off. That dress suggests that you wanted to make an impression, which you have because you look gorgeous, but you were looking at him hoping he had taken notice and were upset when he didn't even look at you," I deduced and she stared shocked at me.

"Do you do what Sherlock does too?" She questions and I laugh before shaking my head.

"No, I merely have a keen eye for relationships and how people interact. I can't solve a crime just by looking at it. I'd be stumped just like the rest of you," I assure and we both laugh a bit and I'm glad I've lightened the mood.

I saw John being kicked out of Sherlock's room and he turned to look at me strangely. I excused myself and walked over to his room and knocked on the door. He told me to go away but I walked in anyway closing the door behind me.

"I said," and he stopped when he turned to see it was me. His face suddenly dropped and I looked at him, my face full of concern.

"What is it?" I asked.

He didn't speak for a while as if trying to choose his words carefully so when he did speak it was slow and precise, "I think Irene's dead…" My world collapsed. I saw her phone in his hand and I fainted on the spot, my whole world going black.

* * *

I woke up to dull lights and soft voices in the background. I was obviously still at Sherlock's apartment since I recognized the texture of the couch they had laid me on. My head was spinning so I tried to focus on the conversation I could hear.

"You know, my friends were wrong about you. You're a great boyfriend," I could hear Jeanette say.

"Oh… okay that's good, I always thought I was great," John spoke, his voice slightly confused and I smiled internally knowing where this was going.

"And Sherlock Holmes is a very lucky man," Jeanette's voice raised and I wanted so badly to laugh. Bingo, I hit it right on the target.

"Oh, Jeanette please," John pleaded, his voice very low.

"No, I mean it. It's heartwarming. You'll do anything for him," she finishes and I can hear her get up off the other couch. "He can't even tell your girlfriends apart!"

"No, no, I'll do anything for you just tell me what it is, tell me!" John pleads as he races after her.

"Just don't make me compete with Sherlock Holmes!" She yells.

"I'll walk your dog for you. There, now I've said it," John mutters.

Janette stops him, "I don't have a dog!"

"No… because that was the last one…" John fades off as I hear him sigh. Oh god, that is bad…

"Jesus!" Jeanette curses and I can hear her rush down the stairs.

"I'll call you," John ends in a last attempt.

"No!" Jeanette screams and then she's gone and John gives up as he walks over to me.

"That really wasn't very good was it?" Mrs. Hudson comments. I finally let a chuckle come out and I open my eyes to look at them both.

"I don't think I've seen a break up that bad since Hank Kindly and Tina Torres in the 9th grade. He accidentally called her Holly which was his ex and she slapped him on the face before smashing his bike with a crowbar. Then again, I'm pretty sure her family was in the mob," I finished off with a laugh and both my friends were surrounding me in a second.

"How are you feeling?" John asks and I simply groan as I try to lift my head.

"Like I got hit by a bus, ran over by a train and thrown out of an airplane. What in the world happened?" I grumbled as I rubbed my hand over the small bump on my head.

"You fainted dear," Mrs. Hudson cooed as she rubbed my arm comfortingly.

"And, why did I faint?" I ask quietly as I stare at John for answers.

He stares at my for a bit and Mrs. Hudson's eyes are downcast as the concern grows in me before John finally whispers, "Irene's dead."

I suddenly have this strong urge to heave the contents of my dinner onto the carpet. God no, not Irene. Suddenly I'm throwing up all the food I've had the whole day and the world fades away from me again. Please let this all be a dream.

Sherlock's voice is the last thing I hear before I fall into the darkness again.

* * *

**AN:** Dear God that was a long chapter! 9 pages and over 6,000 words on Microsoft word! Okay, it's really late here so I'm going to make this short! Thank you for following my story, the few of you who do and I hope you really enjoyed this chapter because it was definitely a blast to write! If you review I always reply at the end of each chapter so thankfully I get to start that today! Have a great night/day/morning everyone! Much Love – Jenna

**Review Replies:**

**Emma:** I'm really glad you think the story is unique! It came to me the second time around when I was watching "Sherlock." I hope you liked this super long update and keep telling me what you think! Thanks for the review!


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:** Thank you guys bunches for waiting until I got back from my trip, I know it's been like a few weeks or something but right when I got back from my trip I started summer school and over five hours of running around in Arizona heat (Especially since it's been over 110 like it has been) really takes away all of your energy and then I started sight singing lessons for singing and started my voice lessons back up again so I've been ridiculously busy! And I had a spark of writers block and writer's laziness that was only cured my Ereyna yelling at me to write so thank her and thank those of you who reviewed for making the experience of writing this story all the more precious. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! I end summer school soon so I'll have a butt load of free time on my hands to write! Also, sorry about the cursing in this one I just thought it fit the situation and I cuss a lot so I'm surprised there aren't a lot more colorful metaphors in this story! Thanks for reading and enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** However much I wish to own this spark of genius; I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters or scenes that I may take from the spectacular show. I do however own my own character and ask that if you must use her in anything, to ask me first! Much thanks!

* * *

**Hostile Correspondence**

**Chapter 5:**

John had driven with me to my apartment to grab the essentials since I was going to be staying at their flat. John didn't want me to be by myself after experiencing such an emotional trauma. Doctor's orders. Sherlock simply stared out the window and composed depressing music on his violin. John offered to grab what I needed but I longed to get out of the flat. I couldn't listen to it any more. It made my broken heart ache.

We reached our destination and John told the cab to wait since we wouldn't be gone long. I slumped up to the third floor and unlocked my door before pushing it open. I immediately knew something was off. John was standing right behind me.

"Just wait here," I told him, "I'll be right out."

"Alright, I'm right in here if you need me," John answered gently. This brought a smile to my face; the first in a while. John was always extremely in tune with other's feelings and he's always so compassionate.

I stepped into my room and was instantly pulled aside as a hand covered my mouth and an arm wrapped around my waist preventing me from moving. I didn't dare scream since I didn't know what the mystery person would do if I did. I tried to control my breathing as their hands moved up and down my body, breathing me in.

"Sorry about your friend," Jim's voice crept through my ear unwanted and sent a shiver down my spine.

"Go to hell Jim," I spat and he stopped his movements but didn't do anything cruel like I was expecting. He let me go and walked over to my window, staring down at the street below.

"I truly am sorry though, I know she was practically your only friend and I was trying to help her out as much as I could during her… time of need," Jim's voice was condescending and harsh. I rushed over to him and spun him around so he was looking at me.

"You practically killed her! I TOLD HER TO STAY AWAY FROM YOU!" I half whispered half yelled so I didn't alarm John. I knew Jim knew that John was here because he glanced over to the door before smiling and raising a finger to his lips, shushing me. I hit his chest and went to grab by bag so I could pack my clothes and things I needed from my bathroom.

"Aw, come on now Straya. Don't be mad at me darling," he mocked cruelly. His arms found their way around my waist as he stopped my hands and help them in his own and rested his head on my shoulder. I tensed in his arms as he snuggled up close around me. "I thought you loved me. You've spent so much time trying to convince me."

I wrenched out of his grasp, grabbed my bag and rushed to the door. Turning around I looked at him one last time before leaving and said, "Go to hell and burn Moriarty." I exited and smiled at John as if nothing had happened in my bedroom and we ran down the stairs so we didn't make the cab driver wait too long. Go to hell indeed.

* * *

I was sleeping on the couch when John decided to wake me up from my peaceful slumber. I stared groggily at him as he smiled weakly down at me. It had to be pretty early because the sun was only lightly peeking through the window and Sherlock was nowhere to be scene.

"Good morning John. What can I do for you?" I mumbled yawning and stretching my arms and legs out. I turned my neck since it was slightly stiff from sleeping on a slightly more comfortable then a rock couch. He squatted down next to me and grabbed my hand.

"I'm leaving later to spend time with a friend and I don't really want him alone so I was wondering if you were going to be here," he whispered as if Sherlock were in the room with us.

"Of course, I'm going to be doing business this morning but I should be back before you leave to go anywhere," I started and John looked at me worried but before he could say anything I continued, "John, don't worry. I won't let the kid out of my sight alright Daddy Watson?" He laughed at joke and I grasped his shoulder in silent reassurance that everything would be okay. He stood up and went to get ready in his own room. Stretching out I stood up and folded my blanket and put my pillows in a pile. I looked into the mirror on the wall and saw the dark bags under my eyes. Ugh, I looked absolutely terrible.

I took a shower in the guest bath and got ready before taking my scarf and coat and racing out the door. A message was sent to me last night by one of the people I worked with and I was told to meet them in a secluded part of town in an old building that used to be apartments but was soon abandoned by structural problems. The cab ride was short and the walk up to the seventh floor took little to no effort.

I turned the corner to see a woman turned away from me. This didn't faze me since the person I was meeting name was Lacy and I had never actually seen her in person before.

"Lacy? I got your message. Who found out about the money transfers?" I asked walking to her. I stopped abruptly when I realized I knew this woman.

"Hello Straya," the woman greeted with a sheepish smile on her face. I dropped my bag as tears began to roll down my face.

"Irene…" I chocked on a sob but I didn't move even as she opened her arms for a hug. Instead I rushed over to her and slapped her across the face. "Go straight to hell! How could you do that to me! I was a phone call, a text or a walk away from you at least warning me! I broke the night Sherlock told me you were gone! How could you do this to me?! I'm the only person on this earth who actually loves you, truly loves you, and how do you repay me? With lies and deceit! And, you were working with Jim?! I know I told you to tell him about the pictures but I didn't mean for you to start working hand in hand with him! He'll destroy you Irene!" She was holding back sobs as well as she just stared at me, the tears rolling endlessly down her perfect face.

She forced out, "I know, I know and I am so sorry. I should have told you and I realize that which is why I'm telling you now! It was torture for me not being able to tell you Straya! You have to believe me!" She reached for me again and I merely slapped her hand away and picked up my bag before racing away from her. "Where are you going?!" She yelled after me.

I didn't stop to reply with my voice loud enough to crack the walls around us, "Away from you! Don't contact me again!" With that I was gone and I raced through the crowded streets of London back to 221B. She lied to me. We didn't have secrets and we certainly didn't lie to each other and yet she broke my heart.

I pushed the door open and saw that neither John nor Sherlock were anywhere to be seen but I noticed Mrs. Hudson's cleaning supplies on the floor and realized I hadn't had to open the door, merely push it open. I pushed myself up the stairs and slammed the door open only to see Mrs. Hudson on a chair and American agents surrounding her. She had a bloody scratch on her and she was shaking uncontrollably.

"Oh, Straya…" she cried as she reached out to me. I strut over to her and knelt before her before grabbing her hands in mine and making sure she was okay.

"Get off the floor Ms. Parker," a bald agent ordered. I stared daggers into his eyes before lifting slowly. Another agent knocked me over the head before bringing a chair over and actually tying me up. I was more of a threat than Mrs. Hudson would ever be. The agent took his gun and smacked me across the face. I groaned as my head hung limply and blood raced down from my temple as the room spun slowly.

I heard the door crack open and there Sherlock was, staring at both of us. Mrs. Hudson cried out for him as she shook and I could barely keep my head up enough to look him in the eyes.

"Don't snivel, Mrs. Hudson. It'll do nothing to impede the flight of a bullet. What a tender world that would be," Sherlock ordered but I could tell her was extremely concerned and royally pissed off that the American's had hurt both of us.

"Oh please, help me Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson pleaded and I simply moaned in pain as my body betrayed me, going limp with lack of energy and pain.

"I believe you have something that we want Mr. Holmes," The agent pointed out as he showed his gun to us all, making sure that we knew he meant business and that this wasn't a game by any means.

"Then why don't you ask for it?" Sherlock questioned with a slight tone of mockery underlining his words and that brought the smallest of smiles to my lips and gave me enough energy to look him in the eyes. I could see the worry swimming and soaring in his deep blue orbs. I tried to send him a look of comfort but all the energy I had gave and I fell limp once more. Sherlock walked over and squatted in front of Mrs. Hudson examining all of her injuries before taking a quick peak at me. I could see him flinch as his hand landed on my knee trying to keep me in the land of the living.

"We asked this one, she doesn't seem to know anything but you know what I'm asking for, don't you Mr. Holmes?" the agent pondered but of course he knew the answer to his stupid question.

"I believe I do. First, get rid of your boys," Sherlock demanded and I could see the American's shift in concern.

"Why?" the man asked.

"I dislike being outnumbered. It makes for too much stupid in the room," Sherlock said with utter seriousness and I believed it. Sometimes I or someone else would be thinking and he would tell us to stop because it was too distracting and we weren't being intelligent enough. His words were harsher but I tend to not dwell on the details.

"You two," the guy started, "Go to the car."

"They get into the car and drive away. Don't try to trick me, you know who I am. It doesn't work," and this comment brought another weak smile to my face. Sherlock was up and pacing by now and the boys left the room leaving just the four of us to our demise. "Next, you need to stop pointing a gun at me."

"So you can point a gun at me?" The agent answered in disbelief.

"I'm unarmed," Sherlock pointed out.

"Mind if I check?" the agent started over to Sherlock and I saw him simply shrug.

"Oh, I insist," he replies and I can hear a change in his tone. He has something up his sleeve. He may not be armed with a gun but Sherlock had a plan. He always had a plan. The agent started to check him up and down before Sherlock rolled his eyes, grabbed into his jacket pocket before taking out the yellow spray can, spraying the guy in the face and then head butting him. The guy fell in a heap on the floor. "Moron."

Sherlock raced over to Mrs. Hudson and I and checked to see if Mrs. Hudson is okay before going to be and taking the handcuffs off of me and picking me up to lay me on the couch. He examined my head wound and I began to sense the dizziness going away as I focused on his eyes.

"You always have a tendency of saving my life Mr. Holmes," I muttered smiling weakly up at him.

"And you always have a tendency of needing to be saved Ms. Walker," Sherlock replied jokingly before sending me a playful wink. I was in shock for a while before I simply laughed it off and let him continue checking my wounds. That was a once in a lifetime opportunity to see Sherlock Holmes playfully wink at me and I was too woozy to completely see it.

Sherlock left me and went over to tie up and silence the agent before he woke up and I forced myself to sit up on the couch and covered up in my blanket as I watched Sherlock. Mrs. Hudson was sitting next to me, her right arm was wrapped around my shoulder and she slightly swayed with me trying to calm both of us down from such a frightening experience.

Suddenly John walks through the door confused and asks, "What's going on? Geez, what the hell is happening?" I chuckle but stop quickly because laughing caused my head to pound harshly.

"Mrs. Hudson and Straya have been attacked by an American. I am restoring balance to the universe," Sherlock filled him in and I almost laughed again but forced myself to lean back and just watch everything unfold before me. John rushed over to make sure both of us were okay.

"Oh my God, are you two alright? Jesus, what did they do to you?" John questions as he begins to examine my head wound and the obviously shaken Mrs. Hudson.

She shook her head before chastising herself, "I'm just being so silly!" I grabbed her hand and squeezed it. John tried to reassure her that it was alright.

"Take Mrs. Hudson downstairs and look after her," Sherlock ordered before walking back over to me and planting a gentle kiss on the top of my head.

John grabbed Mrs. Hudson and began taking her out before looking at Sherlock, "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"Next time," Sherlock assured, "Now go." The two walked out as Sherlock walked back over to the man who was now awake again and I knew that the kiss was meant as a promise that this crime would not go unpunished. Sherlock looked at me in question and I nodded giving him permission. Sherlock took out his phone and dialed a number. "Lestrade? We've had a break in at B Street. Send you least irritating officers," Sherlock began and I smiled lightly and shook my head, "And an ambulance. Oh no, no, no, no we're fine. No it's the uh, it's the burglar. He's got himself well badly injured. Few broken ribs, fractured skull, punctured lung. He fell out of a window." Then in a second Sherlock hung up, picked the man up and threw him out the window. The man screamed as he fell and Sherlock clapped his hands together as if giving himself a job well done before turning and racing over to me again.

He took my face in between his hands and looked me in the eyes, "Are you okay?" he asked concerned and I chuckled a bit before covering his hands with my own.

I nodded, "Yes Sherlock, I'm fine. They knocked me out quite hard but I've had worst, trust me." Sherlock raised his eyebrows and I immediately regretted bringing it up.

"Boyfriend, right?" Sherlock asked but it wasn't a question. I nodded and he sighed before helping me stand and leading me downstairs to join John and Mrs. Hudson. Both of them were sitting at the small kitchen table and Mrs. Hudson still looked completely stunned. Sherlock was getting the people he loved most hurt and it wasn't going to get any easier especially with all the publicity they were getting and everyone knew where they lived. That certainly wasn't a secret by any means. I sat down next to Mrs. Hudson and wrapped my arms around her shoulder and pulled her close to me.

I began humming a gentle tune as she shook in my arms. I swayed a bit as I began to sing the words softly to her in a comforting way that was supposed to take her away from all of the craziness around us before the Lestrade's men came knocking on our door.

I gently sang, "Brilliant love follow me home. Home is the place where we both belong. Gentle and soothing follow my voice. Follow the light that others rejoice. Sun rays linger and flowers sway. Meadows crumble and birds fly away. Here is where I lost my heart to you. Linger darling, linger true. Linger angel, linger true," I trailed off as I finished the first section of the song. I could hear John and Sherlock still talking and could feel Mrs. Hudson lose all of the tenseness in her body. I continued singing, "Radiant love follow my heart. My heart is a lighthouse on the sea. It's wild and it's free, come follow me. Follow the light that others rejoice. The moon it shines another day. Stars will falter and darkness will fade. Here is where I lost my heart to you. Linger lover, linger true. Linger angel, linger here with you." I stopped and realized it was extremely quiet and I looked to see the boys gawking at me and so I turned back to Mrs. Hudson to make sure she was feeling better, which she was. Red and blue lights flickered outside and I followed Sherlock out the door while John stayed to look after Mrs. Hudson.

"I didn't know you could sing like that," Sherlock commented as we walked side by side out to Lestrade.

Chuckling I responded, "There are a great many things you do not know about me my dear Sherlock." He turned to me and simply stared as Lestrade walked up to us.

"Well," Sherlock began, "I can't wait to learn even if it takes me a lifetime." This shocked me and left me speechless. We just stared at each other even as Greg came up in front of us. He was about to say something but stopped and tried to figure out what we were doing. He tried a few times to strike conversation but nothing ever came out. He just looked down and I smiled at Sherlock.

"The body is in the alley behind the building." Greg nodded before racing away from us, obviously feeling awkward in the situation. Sherlock and I finally turned from each other and watched as the police took the man away from the scene and Greg stood next to Sherlock.

"And exactly how many times did he fall from the window?" Greg asked completely amazing and shocked by the whole situation.  
"It's all a bit of a blur detective inspector. I lost count," Sherlock answered darkly and I frowned at him. Greg slowly began to back away before going over to his men obviously disturbed by the answer. I smacked Sherlock on the arm and he looked down at me in confusion.

"You scared him off!" I growled. Sherlock shrugged his shoulders before going on inside but I stopped him by grabbing his hand and turning him around to face me. I placed my hands on his shoulders, pulled myself up and kissed him gently on the cheek. I didn't move my face away as I whispered in his ear, "Thank you my hero." I could feel him shiver as I backed away and began walking the opposite direction.

"Where are you going?" Sherlock shouted after me.

"Home dear Sherlock. I'm going home," I yelled over my shoulder and kept walking as I prayed to God, hoping none of Jim's men had seen what crime I had just committed. Damn adultery even if it only was in my mind. My fantasy of Sherlock Holmes and I was getting quite out of hand.

* * *

Whoever invented coffee was a genius. The British had this weird thing about tea but since I was a rebellious American, I seemed to crave coffee. I woke up much too early to help a client this morning and was trying to wake up after hours of staring at the computer screen. No matter how far back you sit from the screen your eyes will always end up hurting after a few hours which is ridiculous. Now I feel drowsy and exhausted and it's only 12:00 p.m.

My phone beeped loudly making me cringe. The screen lit up showing I had a new message from Sherlock. I put down my heavenly cup of goodness and grasped my phone before typing my password and sliding to my text messages.

**Irene's here. Come quickly –SH**

I stared at the screen as I contemplated my options. 1. I could ignore the message and let Sherlock and John do whatever to Irene. 2. Go to 221B and see what's going on or 3. Go to bed and never wake up. I hadn't spoken to Irene since that day she revealed she was alive and I hadn't planned on ever seeing that lying sack of shit again but if she was at Sherlock's that either meant one of two things. She was either in deep shit or she was planning something that involved Jim and could get either John or Sherlock seriously injured and that kept pulling me to leave and make sure everything was okay.

After long contemplation I pulled myself out of my drowsiness and pushed myself to get ready quickly before making my way to 221B. I let myself in and began walking up the stairs before I heard two male and one female voice. I stopped outside the door to listen.

Sherlock started doing that fast talk nonsense he does when he's discovered something and then told Irene not to be impressed since John's said that in every way possible.

"I would have you right here on this desk until you've begged for mercy twice," Irene purred and the mere thought of that made my stomach churn and my hands to clench in fists but I couldn't move. I didn't want to. The thought of Sherlock knowing that I heard that made me blush and the possibility that he wouldn't care if I heard it made it worse. Sherlock told John to check some flight schedules for confirmation and a deathly silence filled the room.

"I never beg for mercy, not ever," Sherlock replied.

"Twice," Irene assured before he could defend himself anymore. I had heard enough. I quietly sprinted down the stairs and out the front door to the park. My body ached from being hit by the American's the day before but I pushed on, ignoring the pain. Dazed thoughts ran through my mind as my feet carried me over the concrete and brick. Why did I care what Irene said to Sherlock? Why did I care that she liked him? Why…? I shouldn't care. Jim always told me not to get attached to your pets and assignments. In this case it was just too damn hard.

My heavy breathing filled my ears as I sat on a bench and my eyesight began to fill with red. I was enraged and I didn't know how to calm myself down. I looked up and realized this was the exact same spot that Sherlock and I had met so very long ago. I suddenly felt something wet trickle down my face and before I could stop myself, tears fled from my eyes and onto my lap.

"He's just an assignment Straya. He's just part of the job," I whispered, my voice shaky and extremely inconvincible. The sun set over the tops of the buildings and I realized I had spent hours crying and trying to convince myself that I had no feelings for Sherlock Holmes… For John Watson… For Mrs. Hudson. They were my friends, my family, and my life. They were everything that Jim would never and could never be. They were gentle, kind, and loving. They were the hope that one day I could be a good person. That one day I wouldn't be so terrible and I could achieve redemption for my sins. My phone vibrated suddenly and I realized I had a few unread text messages.

**I know you were at Sherlock's. Why didn't you come say hi love? I miss you… - IA**

** You didn't come. Why? Don't shut me out Straya – SH**

** Sherlock's worried about you. If he didn't have a case currently he would probably be going crazy. See him soon. It's hard to deal with him like this. I hope you're okay – JW**

** Found Mycroft's plans. 747 tomorrow 6:30 PM Heathrow. Come see me darling? ;) – JM**

Each text deserved a different response that I wasn't so sure I could give right now. I contemplated as I walked home and as soon as I was on my bed I looked down and began texting each one of them back.

**To Irene:** **Go straight to hell Irene. I meant what I said before. I don't want to see you and you have no right to ask why I left. Leave me be – SP  
To John: He's a big boy, he'll be fine. I'm… breathing John. Thanks for asking - SP**

** To Jim: A jumbo jet?.. Oh, full of the dead to break off the terrorists… I still hate you. You want me? Come and get me Jim – SP**

** And to Sherlock: I almost think I sense some concern in this message Mr. Holmes – SP**

I pulled off my shoes but had no energy to do anything else before shutting my eyes and falling into sleep. A beep pulled me back as I glanced at my phone.

**I am. I'll be at your apartment tomorrow. Don't leave because I'll just chase you down Straya Parker. You stay right where you are. Wait for me – SH**

I smiled.

**I'll always wait – SP**

* * *

Waking up I could tell the sun was way over my head which meant that it was past noon. Someone was brushing my hair out from my face and I unconsciously leaned into the touch, savoring the gentle caress. Lips brushed my hairline and I felt my bed sink slightly as a body lay down next to me, wrapping me in their warm embrace and I smiled in to them as my head rested on their chest.

Said person rubbed my back in circles comfortingly and I breathed in time with the rise and fall of the man's chest. I mumbled, "Sherlock…" and the hands stopped moving and I pried my weary eyes open and looked up to find a very delirious Jim staring down at me.

My breathing staggered as his hand clamped tightly around my throat, stopping all oxygen from entering my lungs. I gasped and scratched at his hands as his eyes bore haughtily into mine. With brute strength he lifted me from the bed and my feet dangled inches from the ground.

"Sherlock?... DID YOU JUST SAY SHERLOCK HOLMES?!" Jim bellowed. I croaked and attempted to reply but he was crushing my windpipe.

"Jim…" I stammered barely breathing. He squeezed harder and my vision began to blacken before I was flying through air and was slammed cruelly into the wall. Bursts of harsh coughing erupted from my chest and I gasped for air. I could see him stalk towards me and I didn't have the energy to move or fight back. Jim crouched down next to me before gently touching my lips in an action of mockery and insult. He leaned down and kissed me ever so lightly.

"It's just a job Straya," Jim mumbled painfully before leaving me on the floor. Why did I hear a hint of remorse and hurt in his voice? Could it be that after all this time he actually loved me in return?

"You belong to me." I cringed at the words as tears streamed down my face only adding to my lack of energy and power to pull myself up off the ground. He was gone and I tried to pull myself up but a scream full of agony escaped my lips as a shooting pain filled my side and I looked down to see blood seeping through my shirt. Oh God… where was my hero now?

* * *

**AN:** Finally! Left you on the edge of a cliff mwahahaha! That will force me to write faster this time! God guys I am so, so sorry! I started writing and it just came out terrible so I stopped and finally had enough energy and time to write the rest of it today! So what did you think of the whole mess? That ending surprised me because I wasn't really sure how I wanted to go along with writing an ending to this chapter at all. Sometimes as a writer you surprise yourself! So I must thank these awesome, amazing, fantastic, brilliant, wonderful people who reviewed and literally melted and warmed my heart and made my soul soar because I was yearning for some insight into this story and these wonderful readers finally reviewed so I thank you all for that! Well, until next time my friends! Much Love – **Jenna **

**Review Reply:**

**FeliciaFelicis: **I'm so glad you're enjoying the story! Now that I think about it, neither have I! I wasn't sure how I was going to apply that to the whole story but making her friends with Irene simply added to the amount of crap that she has piling around her life and for some reason, as writers, we love to torture our characters. In a way, I guess it makes them more understandable and real. I am really grateful for your review! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

**JasmineVsAngels: **First off, I really like your name! Second, thank you so much for taking the time to review to each chapter! You really made my day because I kept getting emails while I was running around and your reviews just brought a smile to my face! Yeah, I wasn't so sure I was even getting into this story at first but now I'm really liking where this is going! I already have the whole "Sherlock finds out about Jim and Straya" scene planned out thanks to my best friend Ereyna and I really like it so I think you will too! It's pretty dramatic and full of tears ;D I'm so glad you love this story as much as I do! That means a lot! The Christmas scene and the Palace scene were definitely my favorite scenes in the whole show and this episode, other than episode three, are my favorite! I hope you liked this chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: **Sorry for the bit of a wait on this one! As you'll soon see almost this entire chapter has nothing of "The Hounds of Baskerville" in it. I did that because that episode was really special for Sherlock and John to me and I wasn't really sure I wanted Straya interfering with that. I'm getting ahead of myself. Thank you for everyone who's been reviewing, it means so much to me and really makes me want to write faster and better than I am. This chapter finally touches on Straya's past and I'm really excited for you to read it! All of her past and dreams will be in italics which means _we're going to have a lot of this_ throughout the whole chapter. Here we go!

**Disclaimer:** However much I wish to own this spark of genius; I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters or scenes that I may take from the spectacular show. I do however own my own character and ask that if you must use her in anything, to ask me first! Much thanks!

* * *

**Hostile Correspondence**

**Chapter 6:**

I couldn't open my eyes. I couldn't focus on anything around me. Swallowing was extremely difficult and yet breathing was easier than it had ever been before. I couldn't move my body. My arms wouldn't reach out to judge my surroundings and my legs refused to stretch. All I could do was breath in and out. I could feel a tube running down my throat and a mask secured around my mouth and nose. The constant and steady beeping finally told me where I was. I must have been in the hospital.

My memory was exceedingly hazy but I forced myself to remember what I could before I blacked out. My conscious flinched as I remember Jim choking me and throwing me against the wall. I began remembering being beaten harshly by the American and losing my dearest friend. Flashes of Sherlock's smile and Jim's promises danced in the darkness that I had succumbed to.

Voices drifted through the air around me but they weren't distinguishable from nightmare or reality. It felt as though my body was being lifted up and was floating in air. My senses tingled but my body refused to let me use them. I focused on my gentle constant breathing and felt my body spinning around in the darkness that consumed my mind.

"How is she Doctor?" I collapsed from flight and reunited with the present world as soon as Sherlock's voice reached my delicate ears. I could feel a gentle hand tuck my hair behind my ear and then a gentle kiss fluttered on my forehead. I longed to lean into it but my body continued to betray me. I heard a screech before his hand clasped around my own and he leaned down gently on the bed to be closer to me.

"Her state hasn't changed Mr. Holmes. The lack of oxygen flow to her brain caused the coma and we're trying to correct that issue but the choking, loss of blood and scar tissue on her brain are giving us trouble. Her state has neither improved nor declined which could be a good or a bad thing depending on how you look at it," a voice, assumingly the nurse's, informed him on my condition. I guess I must have taken more damage than I had originally thought… Jim put me in a coma… I hear Sherlock sigh and rub his thumb on the top of my hand.

"Is there nothing you can do to help her?" I heard John question. "I know they've discovered new processes that could speed up the healing process of a coma patient if you inclined the dosage of,"

"Dr. Watson, we're doing everything that we believe her body is capable of handling at this point in time. After her incident she came to us in a very bad place and the Doctor wasn't even sure she would live through the night let alone how long she's been soldiering on through this. All I can say to comfort you is that most coma patients who have come through have told us that they could hear what their loved ones were talking to them about when they were under. My advice is to wait and just keep her company. Let her know how much you care and how much you want her back. That's the best we can hope for at this point. She needs a little push," the nurse finished and I could hear her stash away her clipboard before leaving out the door and pulling the curtain around my bed. John sighed before coming to my other side and holding my other hand.

"Well, if you can hear me Straya then… come on back, yeah? Life is extremely difficult without your smiling face around," John croaked, pain evident in his usually strong and firm voice.

"John, she can't hear you. There's no point," Sherlock muttered as he continued to rub my hand with his in the most comforting way. I just wished I could somehow tell him I was here with him, that I could hear him.

"The nurse just said that many patients before could hear the people who talked to them while they were under," John retorted obviously hurt.

"Nurses always say that. It's supposed to make the family and friends of the patient feel better but it's never actually been proven that," Sherlock was cut off by John slamming his hand down on something which caused my inner body to flinch.

"Damn it, Sherlock! If thinking that Straya can hear me will make me feel better then let me think that! This isn't the time for your ignorant rants of analytical bull! Have a heart for once," John cursed at Sherlock and the tension was so thick you could feel it suffocating you.

There was silence until Sherlock spoke up, his voice meek as a mouse, "Don't assume that my ignorance means I don't care John. I want her back more than you could possibly know." I heard an awkward shuffle and then silence once again.

John whispered as if speaking any louder would kill, "Then talk to her." With that I could hear him leave and felt the absence of his hand holding mine. A kiss was planted on my temple and he was gone. Sherlock rested his head on my stomach and I could feel him shaking. I wanted to hold him. I wanted to assure him that everything would be okay.

"God Straya… I miss you more than I can bear. Everything is dull and boring without you here. Come back…" Sherlock croaked. Then I fell into the darkness of a memory.

* * *

_"Straya! Get your skinny ass over here!" Scott commanded. Being a 16 year old thief in New York had its perks but mostly it sucked. Scott Grace never gave up the chance to make my life a living hell, reminding me of my past and when I tried to tell him no he would just bring up that he saved me from the big bad scary world blah, blah, blah. We were moving a shipment of antique's tonight and he wanted me to steal one last thing before we shipped them off and made a couple grand._

_ "What do you want Grace? I need to get moving if I'm going to pull this off tonight," I responded, racing past him. He pulled me back to him by my wrist and held my against his chest. Scott wasn't the worst looking guy but he definitely made you hate him by his not so charming personality. He had this dark brown hair that covered his head in wisps and stubble that covered his jaw. He only wore a white wife beater; beat up jeans, his dark black biker boots and his black leather jacket. I don't think I'd ever seen him wear anything else. Sure, he was pretty buff since you'd have to be in this job but he wasn't anything to drool over._

_ The attribute that most struck you about Scott was the scar that started from his forehead and went past his right eye down to his cheek. It didn't make him look menacing, merely damaged. Yet, it pulled you to him making you want to know his story though he would never tell. His past was locked up nice in tight in that twisted head of his._

_ "Look Parker, don't mess up tonight. This necklace is going to be the staring piece in this bargain that's going to make us rich. You got it sweetheart?" Scott asked before sticking his lips out to me, moving too close for comfort. I pushed back against him and turned around. I strut away in my all black outfit and began my walk to the diamond store._

_ "Don't worry darling. I'll be in and out like the wind. No one will ever know I was there," I mocked. I could hear Scott scoff which brought a smile to my face. It only took about 20 minutes to get to my destination and since it was 2 A.M. no one was around in this part of the city. With all the gang action and shooting around here, people seem to stay in their houses once the sun goes down unless you're in the business I'm in or worse. I walked into the alley and picked the door before sneaking inside._

_ I was told there was little security and that I should be able to get in and out without a problem. That was until the alarm began wailing. I panicked as I smashed the glass, grabbed the jewels and made a run for it. I could already hear the sirens screaming in the night and the dogs barking from behind closed doors. I was panting as I sprinted down alleys. Lights flickered on and people opened their blinds to look down at the commotion but I didn't stop to find out if they had seen me or not. _

_ I reached a dead end and I slammed into the fence, cursing my luck. Glancing around I tried to find an exit. Anything that could save me as the sirens approached. I could see the blue and red lights dancing on the tall brick buildings. My breath caught in my throat and I squeezed my eyes shut awaiting the inevitable. Suddenly I was dragged into a building and a hand covered my mouth, stopping a blood curdling scream that rose from my chest. I was face to face with a handsome man whose finger was raised to his lips signaling for me to be silent._

_ We waited till the sirens passed us and he slowly let me go and lowered his finger. I found the wall behind me and fell against it with a sigh. _

_ "Thank you so much. I thought I was a goner," I admitted. The man chuckled as he ran his fingers though his dark thin hair. He was very handsome now that I was getting a better look at him. He wore dark pants, a white button down and a black jacket. His smile was kind and his eyes were something you could get lost in._

_ "Always happily inclined to help a beautiful woman in need," the man smiled at me and winked along with his flirtatious comment. I blushed and let out a soft chuckle. He was definitely British by his accent._

_ "I'm Straya Parker. I was doing a job when everything went a little haywire. I adore your accent by the way," I flirted back. It was his turn to chuckle. He grabbed the jewels out of my hand and examined them before staring me up and down, examining me. _

_ "My name's Jim Moriarty and I have a proposition for you Straya Parker," Jim began. I walked over to him and looked him in the eye before giving him a smirk._

_ "Well Mr. Moriarty," I began, "You have my undivided attention and perking interest."_

* * *

I could feel consciousness return once again but this time I was in unbelievable amounts of pain. I wanted to scream. My head was pounding and my lower stomach was burning. The beeping from my monitor was racing at a much too rapid pace and I could hear nurses and doctors in my room yelling and before I knew it we were on the move.

"We need to get her into surgery now or she won't make it!" someone shouted over the havoc. Then I was gone once more.

* * *

_The room was dark and damp with no light emanating except for the small box TV in the corner that was playing my favorite TV show. I watched as the people on the screen danced and sang songs that made absolutely no sense at all. Smoke was drifting and polluting the air and it took all my power not to cough and choke on the smell. Dad was sitting in the reclining chair with beer bottles surrounding him like a blanket. I could hear rambunctious laughter from my mother outside. Fear crept around me and I shivered hearing other male voices out there with her. My parents had a terrible relationship; even as a young child I knew this._

_ "I'm home!" My mother announced as she stumbled into the room high from the drugs. A few older men in their 30's stepped in after her and I stood up to race into our one bedroom before my mother could see me._

_ "Straya my pet, where the hell do you think you're going?" my mom slurred. I stopped dead in my tracks but fear over took me and I lowered my head to the ground and covered my small petite body with my arms. _

_ "Leave her be," my father mumbled defending me but if things escalated he wouldn't interfere in the slightest._

_ "Stay out of this you fat slob. You're a drunken ass who lets your family rot in this hellhole you call a home," my mom yelled throwing a vase at my father and missing by a mile. It crashed against the wall and clattered into a thousand little pieces. The two men with her merely laughed and my father stood and walked out leaving me to my demise._

_ My mom sat down on the couch and patted her lap, motioning me to come over. I did as I was told but I was shaking with absolute terror. My mom bounced me up and down and patted my hair down. _

_ "Isn't she a beauty gentleman?" she asked the strangers and they both laughed and nodded as they walked to us._

_ I continued to stare at the ground as one of the men picked me up and put me on his lap. I knew what was coming so I shut my eyes and made myself go into my own little world. I was only eight years old._

* * *

The pain was gone when I came to again and the beeping was back to its normal pace. I felt someone adjusting the needles and tubes coming from my body and moving me so I was comfortable under my sheets.

"Did you call her friends?" a gentle and soothing voice asked.

"Yes but Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson are off solving a case in Baskerville. Something about that man coming out about a massive hound that's been killing people. Seems more supernatural than an actual case to me but I'm not the expert," another woman answered just as kind.

I heard the other sigh as she began to speak, "You did tell them how important it was to be here didn't you? She's in a very sensitive condition and the doctor…" I heard her choke up and I tensed myself. "The doctor says she may not make it. She hasn't shown any improvement and it's been a long while. Usually there would be some small sign of improvement but so far she's only gotten worse! Whoever did this to her didn't want her to survive it."

"Amanda! We don't know what happened. You can't go around and assume things when you don't know the story," the other nurse accused.

"Oh come on Susan! This was obviously the work of a jealous boyfriend. I know both of those men aren't dating her and yet they are extremely close to her. Not to mention they found her in her flat and not on the street so it wasn't a coincidence or a mugging and there was no forced entry. That leaves a very angry boyfriend," Amanda finished.

I could hear Susan moan in disapproval, "You're probably right. How could a boyfriend do this to someone he loved?

* * *

_"Jim!" I hollered as I ran towards my longtime boyfriend. I had just landed from my long flight to London and Jim was leaning against a pillar with the name Parker written on a white sheet of paper. He threw it over his shoulder as soon as he saw me and raced over to me. I was spinning in the air as Jims arms held my firmly around my waist and bubbly laughter raised from my chest._

_ His lips locked with mine and my arms clenched around his neck bringing him close to me. One of his arms was locked around my back while the other was caressing my hair and face. We parted, our breathing labored and smiled brightly at one another._

_ "God I've missed your gorgeous smile," Jim admitted as he kissed the tip of my nose. I giggled before wrapping one of my arms around his waist as he put his arm around my shoulder holding me to him. We began walking to baggage claim as Jim and I reacquainted each other with everything. He bought me an apartment not too far from him and already secured a job with a few higher standing bank people that would get the ball rolling.  
People were crowding the baggage area but it only took about ten minutes to find my bags and leave. We filed into his car and raced to my new apartment. London was gorgeous and being here with Jim was the icing on an already perfect cake. The apartment was breathtaking and all mine which was a change since I had been living with roommates in New York since I left my parents._

_ "Jim this is perfect!" I squealed before running to the window and looking down at the view of the city around me._

_ "I'm glad you love it," he chuckled and wrapped his arms around me from behind. I leaned back into him and sighed contently._

_ "Everything is going to be exactly how we planned, isn't it Jim?" I asked. He spun me around and looked deeply into my eyes before placing his lips tenderly on mine. Our lips moved together and our tongues danced. He leaned back and placed his forehead against mine._

_ "Yes my angel. Everything is going to be perfect," he whispered only for me to hear. Butterflies jumped wildly in my stomach and I ran my fingers through his hair as he ran his hands up and down my sides sending shivers up my spine._

_ "I love you Jim Moriarty, more than all the water in the ocean and the stars in the universe," I purred lovingly and truthfully._

_ "And I love you Straya Parker, more than all the sand in the desert and the birds in the bright blue sky. More than I'd ever be able to admit," he replied before kissing my jawline._

_ "Together forever?" I asked but it was hard to focus with him kissing down my neck._

_ "Till the end of time," he kissed further and further and this was the beginning of the first day of my life. It was also the beginning of the end._

* * *

"I want to take her home with me," Sherlock's voice woke me from my past.

"Sir you aren't family so I can't allow you to do that. Not to mention it's a very bad decision. You can't keep your eyes on her like we can here. We're doing everything we can to ensure that she'll make it out of this coma Mr. Holmes I promise," a male voice, who I'm assuming is the doctor, spoke.

"Everything you can? I wasn't even gone for a week and I get a call that she's being moved into a major surgery and that her condition has worsened considerably. Is that all you can do because at this point all you can do isn't good enough and if she's…" Sherlock stopped and the whole room went dead silent. We all knew what he was going to say. "If she's going to die I don't want her to die in a hospital. I'd rather her leave in the comfort of some place that she knows."

"Mr. Holmes, if it does indeed come to that point where I believe that Ms. Parker will be leaving us then I'll let you take her into your own care. As I can see on this chart she doesn't have any family and since she was practically living with you and Dr. Watson I guess it wouldn't do any harm," the doctor assured.

"Thank you," Sherlock responded before sitting down next to me and holding my hand once again. "Sweet dreams." Who would have thought that instead I had a nightmare?

* * *

_The view of the city below was breathtaking. After living in London for so many years I have a tendency of forgetting its beauty. Hands wrapped around my lower waist and I smiled before leaning back. "Hello. I missed you," I mumbled snuggling back into Sherlock._

_ "I missed you too. Why won't you come back to us? You've been sleeping for a long time," Sherlock hummed into my ear. I looked forlorn into the distance._

_ "He's not letting me Sherlock. He doesn't want me to be near you anymore. This wasn't the plan," my voice is speeding up and my words begin to jumble together._

_ Sherlock spins me around and looks into my eyes, "Who doesn't my dear? Who's keeping you from me?" I shake my head violently. I didn't want him to get hurt. I didn't want to tell him anything. It was too painful. I didn't want him to know about Jim. I didn't want to see the look on his face when he realizes that the whole thing was a set up. That I was simply a pawn in Jim's game. Before I could answer, Jim was racing towards us and stopped right behind Sherlock._

_ "Me," was all he said before pushing Sherlock off the roof and down into the street. A scream flew from my lips as I flung myself off the roof after him and Jim followed. We all fell and right before we hit the sidewalk, darkness fell over me._

* * *

My eyes shot open and the light that overcame me was painful. The beeping increased on my monitor and I began choking on the tube in my throat that was helping me breath. My head was spinning and my body was extremely weak but I felt as if I came back from the dead. I felt Sherlock bolt up and look at me. His mouth hung open as he stared of me.

"Doctor!" he yelled and smiled. He moved my side bangs out of my eyes before kissing my forehead. "Welcome back to the land of the living Straya."

I forced my arm to reach out and cup his cheek. I tried to smile with my eyes since it hurt too much to smile with my mouth. A doctor and a few nurses burst through the door and forced Sherlock to leave. My heart monitor raised and I watched terrified as he left again.

"Don't worry Ms. Parker. We're going to take good care of you," a young Doctor assured me before checking everything over. The nurses came over smiling at me.

"It's a miracle from heaven Ms. Parker," Susan said if I remembered her voice correctly. They told me to continuously swallow as they pulled the tube from my throat allowing me to breathe freely and on my own once again. Amanda gave me a cup of water and I chugged it down.

"Well, it really is a miracle Ms. Parker. All of your signs are back to normal. You should be able to leave tomorrow morning if everything goes well tonight. It looks like you just needed that extra push and reason to wake up," the doctor informed me. I smiled kindly and thankfully at him.

My voice was weak but I was glad to be able to use it again, "Thank you Doctor. You were very kind this whole time and very patient with Sherlock. I know how much of a pain he can be to put up with and you were extremely gentle on him." The doctor looked surprised but the nurses simply beamed at me.

"You were conscious?" The doctor questioned. I shook my head and drank some more water.

"I guess I was in a way. I could hear everything but my body was betraying me. I couldn't move or see but I could hear everything very clearly and you did very well with his battering so thank you. He means a lot to me and he just wanted what was best," I trailed off realizing I really wanted to see him and John.

"Oh, well, you're very welcome. I'm sure you want to see the two of them so I'll let them in. Just take it easy and we'll bring you some dinner shortly," and with that all three left and were quickly replaced by John and Sherlock.

I opened my arms to them and John was the first to race over and embrace me. I laughed heartily and he laughed right along with me.

"God, when Sherlock found you on your flat floor and called me we both assumed the worse! I'm so glad you're better!" John exclaimed. I pulled away and smacked him gently across the cheek.

"John Watson!" I started feigning offence, "You should know better than to doubt me! It's going to take more than a coma to take me out of the fight." John just shook his head and I turned to see Sherlock just staring at me. John cleared his throat before making some excuse about going to the restroom and getting a cup of coffee.

I smiled a gentle small smile before opening my arms cautiously and he stumbled over and into them.

"I missed you," I whispered into his ear. His arms were placed securely around my back holding me to him.

"Don't do that to me again. I don't think I've ever been scared in my life but you terrified me by what you just did. I've spent my whole life trying to break away from my feelings. They've always been a problem, something to be overlooked but with you I lose that and my feelings just swarm around my head clouding every good judgment I have. I don't understand," Sherlock was talking a million miles an hour like he always did. I stopped him by placing my finger over his lips.

"You know what that means?" I asked raising one eyebrow and smiling at him.

"No… I don't and that scares me too," Sherlock admitted sheepishly. I rolled my eyes at him before kissing his cheek.

"I love you too Sherlock Holmes," I announce. He smiled gently at me before nodding and pulling me back into a hug and holding me until John came back with food and coffee.

* * *

**AN: **Few! That was absolutely crazy! It was really hard for me to write the childhood scene so I hope it got my point across of what happened to her. Alright now we're onto the last episode of season two and I'm really excited. I'd like to know in advance if you'd like me to continue this story after this season. I could completely OC it and just make my own season 3, I could wait for season 3 to continue the story or I could just stop it at the end of this season. I'd like your opinion because it's the one that matters the most to me. Can I guarantee I'll do it? No, but I'd like to do what all of you want. Alright, I hope this chapter wasn't too out of character. I'm trying to show how much she's impacting their lives. Anyway, thanks for reading and I'll post the next chapter soon! Much Love – **Jenna**

**Review Replies:**

**Emma: **I know exactly what you mean! I always have a tendency of getting attached to fictional characters :/ I hope this eases your mind!

**FeliciaFelicus: **I'm glad you're enjoying the story so much! That's how I was hoping it would look! Jim is such a ridiculously complicated character that he's frustrating but extremely fun to write! I'm glad it's not too OOC. That's what I was hoping to avoid! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

**JasmineVsAngels: **Gosh, my life in a sentence! Staying up super late just for fan purposes! I'm really happy to hear that you love it so much since I really enjoy it myself. Torturing your characters is a writer's job in life! If you're not torturing your characters then you're not doing it right. I left school for a month; now I forget how to write correctly. Funny enough using three of those is why I excelled on my state writing test and almost got a perfect score so it's sad that I can't use them now. And I won't give any spoilers but I'm pretty sure that desire will be satisfied soon so don't you worry! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

**sentviaLondonInstitue: **The one way writers tend to torture their readers is by suspenseful cliff hanger endings! Sorry about that! Hope you liked this chapter and thanks for reading!

**Guest: **Thank you so much for reviewing! I hope this chapter eased the pain a little bit!


	7. Chapter 7

**AN:** I am extremely sorry this took so long but I just wrote everything and finished the story and I was trying to figure out how I wanted to do this and what I wanted to do after I was done. Then I was extremely busy and not busy but was doing other things and I'm just mortified that it took me this long to write this. This story is almost at the close and I am really nervous to see how you all react. Please review and I hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **However much I wish to own this spark of genius; I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters or scenes that I may take from the spectacular show. I do however own my own character and ask that if you must use her in anything, to ask me first! Much thanks!

* * *

**Hostile Correspondence**

**Chapter 7:**

Everything around here was beyond crazy. Sherlock solved the biggest case of his career so far and was now called "The Reichenbach Hero" which didn't exactly please him in any way. All of the people were giving him gifts to thank him for solving all of these enormous cases and the papers were having a field day with the hat and the mysterious form of Sherlock Holmes and his friend John Watson. I purposefully stayed as far away from the lime light and the reporters as I could and mostly just kept inside John and Sherlock's flat. They didn't want me running around by myself after the accident and I didn't really want to be alone so it was a win-win.

Sherlock and I had this fine understanding of each other now and were getting along even better than before. We confessed our strange connection to each other and realized that we didn't want to live away from each other. It was definitely a strange love. The love we shared wasn't that of a husband and wife, girlfriend and boyfriend, brother and sister, or mother and father. It was… it was a love beyond friendship, a love that simply bound us in a way where we didn't want to be parted. We were two halves of a whole. We understood, respected and deeply cared for each other and that was all.

John noticed the difference in our actions and teased us. He kept trying to push us into closets, so to speak, or make us admit that we were together but it wasn't like that. My and Sherlock's relationship was something that he just couldn't understand and I had a feeling no one would. I don't know if we understood it ourselves.

I sat reading "A Farewell to Arms" since it was sitting around. As soon as I started I didn't really like the book. I didn't like him and she was too clingy and everything about it annoyed me but I continued to read it anyway. Sherlock began complaining about the paper and this stupid hat that they keep making him wear. Lestrade and his team gave it to him as a "gift" and forced him to wear it for the cameras. To be honest, the whole situation made me laugh but I wouldn't let Sherlock know that. He was really frustrated about the hat for some reason.

John was patronizing Sherlock about the press and being concerned for his welfare. Sherlock wasn't taking this whole thing seriously because he didn't really see the problem. Now that he was a public figure he had to be perfect. Any mistake could ruin him and John was concerned as well was I.

"Bachelor? Bachelor John Watson? What's the supposed to mean?" John complained as he read the paper. I smirked but continued reading. I didn't want to get in the middle of this. Plus, it was extremely entertaining to watch the two bicker sometimes.

Then Sherlock started complaining about the hat.

"It has ear flaps. It's an ear hat John!" Sherlock whined. I giggled keeping my eyes on the page. Sherlock turned and looked at me offense in his eyes.

"Are you laughing at me?"

I glanced up from the pages but only so he could see my eyes and winked at him before turning back to my book. Sherlock huffed and threw the hat towards John like a Frisbee. I shook my head and smiled at his childishness.

"Just look for a small case this week alright?" John muttered before tossing the newspaper down and running off to take a shower. Sherlock watched him go before huffing off to his room. He came out dressed and began to look over things in his microscope. I never understood why he had to use the kitchen table for a science lab. I shook my head and felt my phone vibrate. I marked my page and set my book on the table before reaching for my phone and checking my texts.

**Let the fun begin – JM**

My breath caught in my throat and I dropped my phone to the ground. His final stages were finally put into place. I had been so relaxed just being around my new friends that I hadn't thought about Jim or his plan for a long time. He changed a lot, I knew that much. He wouldn't trust me after all that happened. This text wasn't a warning, it was a final acknowledgement. It was a statement of fact and something I wasn't going to be able to change. I heard a little ring showing that Sherlock had a text and John picked it up. He was in a robe and his hair was wet from the shower. His face turned sour and frightened after reading the text.

"Sherlock," John mumbled.

"Not now," Sherlock replied keeping his eyes on the scope.

"Sherlock," John repeated, his voice shaking.

"John, not now," Sherlock responded annoyed.

"Sherlock," John paused and swallowed, "He's back." Sherlock turned and looked seriously at him before turning to me. I stared at him my eyes lost and my mouth slightly open in terror. Jim… was back.

* * *

I adjusted Sherlock's collar and fumbled over his shirt trying to compose myself. John just assumed that I was nervous for Sherlock but I could see the worry and question in Sherlock's eyes. Jim had broken into the prison, the Bank of England, and into the crown jewels. No matter how bad the case was for him and how he should go to jail without a doubt, I had this nagging feeling that he would be set free and that terrified me. I ran my hands down Sherlock's shirt and his hands caught mine. I grasped his hands in return and slammed my eyes shut as his fingers rubbed circles around mine.

"Everything's going to be fine, Straya," Sherlock reassured but that only made matters worse. I was a wreck. I hadn't seen Jim since that night in my apartment and I wasn't sure if he would hint anything today that I knew him or that I was part of the plan all along. I know what I did was wrong now and terrible and I wish I could take it all back but I can't. I have this philosophy that "Should haves" and "Would haves" don't matter because you can't change the past. You can only live in the now and right now all I wanted to do was protect this man in front of me. He was my solace and my salvation from the life I once knew.  
I closed all of my off shore accounts and told all of my clients that I was shutting down my business all because it was too dangerous to involve my new friends in. I even had a meeting with Mycroft Holmes and gave him a list of all of my clients. For this I was given full secrecy so my clients would never know it was me and complete absolution for my sins and everything I regret. He was more than happy to agree and for the first time my life became simple and wonderful and free.

I pushed into Sherlock and wrapped my arms around his waist. Sherlock's arms held my back and shoulders to him and I breathed him in.

"Just promise me something," I whispered into him.

"Anything."

"Don't do anything stupid."

Sherlock laughed and kissed my forehead briefly before pulling away and looking me in the eye.

"Promise." I gave him a weak smile and walked over to John.

"Ready?" John asked, just as nervous as me. We both nodded and John pushed the door open, shoved past all the reporters and cameras and all three of us huddled into the car. I sat in the middle of the two and simply looked ahead of me. I was sitting stick straight and I didn't move a bit. Sherlock was staring out the window while John was attempting to make him understand that he needed to calm his normal antics down for this trial. We needed everything to put Jim away and Sherlock being… well, Sherlock wasn't going to help any.

"I'll just be myself," Sherlock answered while John's face spoke volumes.

"Were you listening?!" John yelled. Sherlock just stared out the window and didn't reply. I grabbed both of their hands and held on gently for reassurance for them and for myself. John sighed but squeezed back and ceased the argument. Sherlock didn't even turn to look at me but he grasped my hand tightly.

When we pulled up cameras were flashing all around us. Sherlock grabbed a hold of my arm and pulled me out before placing his arm around me and hiding me inside his jacket while John ran out right behind us. I snuggled into him until we got inside where everything was relatively calm considering. Sherlock went to the bathroom and we waited for him. When he came back out he seemed annoyed but I knew better then to ask. We all nestled into the court room. Sherlock kissed my cheek before going down and taking his place to be questioned. I took my seat extremely close to John up above. I'm pretty sure I'm cutting the circulation in John's arm but I don't care and by the looks of it, neither does he.

Order was called and everyone went to their seats. I looked over to see Jim staring right at me. My heart stopped and I couldn't do anything but stare back. Tears welled up in my eyes but I didn't cry, not in front of him. He winked at me with that devilish smirk on his face before turning forward to look at the Judge. I noticed that John didn't say anything or move so I assumed he didn't see anything and no one was giving me looks so it seems that our little exchange was somehow private.

The lawyer began asking questions. She was younger than I expected but she looked like she knew what she was doing. The room was extremely quiet. It was almost freighting.

"A consulting criminal," Miss Sorrel commented. Sherlock looked down at her and from that moment on I knew I wasn't going to be able to breath.

"Yes," Sherlock answered calmly.

"Your words. Can you expand on that answer?"

"James Moriarty is for hire."

"A tradesman," Sorrel was merely pointing out the facts now.

"Yes."

"But not the sort who'd fix your heating."

"No, the sort to plant a bomb or stage an assassination but I'm sure he'd make a pretty decent job of your boiler," Sherlock joked and the room laughed a bit.

Sorrel smiled and continued, "Would you describe him as…"

"Leading," Sherlock mumbled and I went frigid. Damn it…

"What?" Sorrel asked obviously confused.

"Can't do that. You're leading the witness. He'll object and the judge will uphold."

"Mr. Holmes," The judge exclaimed.

"Ask me how, how would I describe him. What opinion have I formed of him? They don't teach you this?" Sherlock asked haughtily and I knew this was immediately going downhill. John squeezed my hand harshly and became very still.

"Mr. Holmes, we're fine without your help," the judge was already annoyed and losing patience with him.

After a moment of silence Sorrel continued, "How would you describe this man, his character?"

"First mistake. James Moriarty isn't a man at all. He's a spider, a spider at the center of a web, a criminal web with a thousand threads and he knows precisely how each and every single one of them dances," Sherlock's speech received a smile out of Jim and caused the whole room to shift in awkward silence.

Sorrel feigned a cough to excuse the uncomfortable atmosphere, "And how long…"

"No, no," Sherlock interrupted, "Don't do that. That's really not a good question." Sorrel turned angry and offended by his words.

"Mr. Holmes!" the judge roared causing Sherlock to slightly roll his eyes.

"How long have I known him?" Sherlock repeated the question before answering, "Not really your best line of inquiry. We met twice, five minutes in total. I pulled a gun; he tried to blow me up. I felt we had a special something." Sherlock finished by sending Jim a funny look which caused Jim to raise his eyes brows in agreement. I cringed at the memory and could sense Sherlock losing the respect and attention of the room very quickly.

"Miss Sorrel," the judge began his accusation, "Are you seriously claiming this man is an expert after knowing the accused for five minutes?"

"Two minutes would have made me an expert, five was ample."

"Mr. Holmes, that's a matter for the jury!"

"Oh really?" Sherlock answered the judge and both John and I slumped in defeat. This was going to be bad… "One librarian, two teachers, two high pressure jobs, probably the city. Foreman's a medical secretary trained abroad, judging by her shorthand."

"Mr. Holmes!" The judge tried to stop it but once Sherlock got going on his deduction he wouldn't stop until he was sure he was done.

"Seven married, two having an affair with each other it would seem. Oh, and they've just had tea and biscuits. Would you like to know who ate the wafer?"

"Mr. Holmes! You've been called here to answer Miss Sorrel's questions, not to give us a display of your intellectual prowess! Keep your answers brief and to the point. Anything else will be treated as contempt. Do you think you could survive for just a few minutes without showing off?!" The judge was screaming now but this didn't faze Sherlock.

He opened his mouth to answer and I looked at him, begging him not to say anything but he didn't listen and he opened his big mouth anyway and got himself taken out immediately and put into a cell. Well, there went that plan. I turned to look at John and I didn't even see disappointment like I used to I just saw anger and annoyance. I sighed and watched as the room tried to figure out what to do. We walked out to get Sherlock out of prison. Sherlock walked towards us and I just leaned back against the wall staring into nothing as John crossed his arms obviously extremely upset.

"What did I say? I said don't get clever!" John snapped.

"I can't just turn it on and off like a tap…" Sherlock began. They argued but I went into my own mind. I went back to yesterday and thought about what Sherlock said last night.

* * *

_"Straya, I want you to be at the trial," Sherlock whispered. He was sitting on the couch staring into the darkness with his hands folding and his chin resting on top of them. I sat down next to him and rested my hand on his leg._

_ "Alright. Any reason why?" I asked gently. He didn't reply for a while and I was beginning to think he had receded into his mind palace and left me in the real world._

_ When he spoke again the seriousness yet meekness of his voice startled me, "I need you there because I don't think I have the strength to take him down without you." I sucked in a breath and just stared at him. This made my betrayal to him even more unbearable. The man in front of me had become my friend, my hero, guardian angel, confidant, and my family. _

_ "Sherlock, I…" I began but he turned to look at me and his eyes swam with emotion I never thought I'd see._

_ "He has an extremely high chance of leaving that room home free without going to prison. He has his ways and I know he'll use them even if the whole world knows he's guilty. I need you there because without you I don't believe I'll even have the strength to face him again. I almost lost everything last time and I can't let that happen again," Sherlock trailed off. I slid into him and wrapped my arms around his neck as his found their way around my waist._

_ "I'll always be there," I whispered into his neck. He buried his face into my shoulder._

_ "Thank you…"_

* * *

The next day, the trial went very strangely. Sherlock obviously didn't show up but the defendant didn't bring any witnesses up even though Jim pleaded not guilty. The judge was enraged by this and asked that the court call guilty immediately. The jury left for six minutes before coming back out.

John and I stared at the people and held each other's hands hoping for the best.

"Have you come to a decision?" The judge asked cockily assuming the answer. A woman stood up and the whole room was silent.

"We have decided not guilty," the woman stated unsurely and slightly afraid. John flung out of the seat before racing out the doors. Everyone turned to look at me including Jim who was smirking and sent me a kiss. Goosebumps ran up my body and I flinched before racing out after John.

He was already out of the building and calling Sherlock by the time I got up to him, slightly out of breath.

"You'll never believe it," John started his conversation to Sherlock, "The jury found him not guilty! Did you hear me Sherlock? Moriarty's free, what are we going to do? Sherlock? Sherlock are you there? Damn it!" John cursed before hanging up the phone. I raced along with him as we tried to call a cab. "How could this happen?! He's obviously guilty and yet the jury called him not guilty?!" John was screaming and I tried my best to keep up with how fast he was jogging.

"John, it's Moriarty, of course he got away. That man has so many tricks up his sleeve he's a magician," I called up to him and he scoffed in return but didn't reply. By the time we got a cab and made it to 221B I noticed a flower outside on the window sill. John ran up to Sherlock but the black rose stopped me in my track. Black rose… Jim. He gave me black roses when he wanted to see me when I was away. I closed the door and raced in the other direction to Jim's apartment. Even though I hadn't been there in months, almost a year, I never once lost my way. I pushed the door open without knocking and saw that he was sitting on the living room chair, facing the front door, eating an apple.

I was breathing heavily as I stared at Jim. The knife was carving small pieces of the apple and placing them in his mouth. A smirk formed on his lips as he stared at me.

"Well, you recovered quite nicely my dear," he mocked. I shivered but didn't let him see. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me scared, not now.

"What did you tell him?" I inquired not in the mood for his games.

"Who?" he replied sending me a smile that had to have come from the devil.

"You know who!" I screamed but he didn't reply and I rolled my eyes, "Sherlock, Jim. What did you tell Sherlock?"

He made the shape of an o with his mouth before taking another bite of the apple. "Don't worry," he began, "I didn't give away your secret if that's what you're worried about. You're going to do that when it's time and now, my dear, is not the time. Not even close. You have come under this delusion that you no longer belong to me, that you belong to yourself now and that the decisions you make are your own. You are wrong. You still belong to me, Straya. Don't forget who made you; I raised you from the dirt and the scum of the streets that you crawled through. I turned a pathetic, stupid, insolent little girl and turned her into a beautiful, stunning, intelligent woman and don't you forget that. You were scraping the dumps for money and for someone to care for you before I came along so don't you see that you belong to me? You are my property and that means that I will do with you what I wish. I told you that we were going to destroy Sherlock Holmes and we are so close to reaching that goal that I can almost taste the sweet victory. Mr. Holmes was once my rival, my reason for getting up in the morning but now he's nothing more than an angel on the good side of the world and I am once again bored which means it's his time to die. Oh don't worry you won't be able to change a damn thing now that my plan is in motion. You, my dear, just get to sit and watch as I set the world on fire and scream as it burns to the ground around your feet."

I stared at him, my mouth agape, tears streaming down from my eyes and my whole body shaking. He hadn't moved from his spot the whole time but the knife he had in his hand spun around between his fingers which made him seem all the more menacing.

"This is my world Straya Parker and I will do with it what I please," he finished. The look on his face was of pure hatred but complete certainty that he was right. I swallowed down my fear and walked towards him. His eyes followed my every movement and the knife in his hand stopped spinning and was instead tightly gripped. I stopped in front of him and knelt down in front of the chair. I began running my hands down his legs and he just stared at me with curiosity. No matter how messed up and demented this man was he was still a man. Sherlock was wrong about that. My hands went back up his legs and I parted them so I could kneel right between them. I grabbed his hand with the knife and took it gently from his fingers before throwing it to the other room. Now my hands were trailing up his shirt and began undoing some of his buttons.

I could feel him begin to lose control of the calm façade that surrounded him. My hands went in his shirt and traced up his shoulders to his neck where I pushed myself onto him so I was straddling his waist. His eyes closed and his hands clutched the sides of the chair. My fingers gently brushed his neck before tangling into his hair. My head bent down and I breathed softly onto his neck and collar bone. I could feel him shiver beneath me and I knew I had him where I wanted him. He couldn't contain himself anymore and his hands reached up to hold my waist and thighs. I ever so lightly placed a ghost of a kiss on his neck and trailed it up to his ear. He was arching up now, his mouth open and his breathing hiked.

I stopped abruptly and grabbed his hands pushing them back to the chair and whispered much too sweetly in his ear, "I think this shows you just how much you have absolutely no control over me James Moriarty. You. Are. Weak." Jim then pushed us both to the ground as he pinned me down below him. I stared him in the eyes and didn't stir. I wasn't afraid of this man anymore. His eyes were swarming with raging emotions: Rage, lust, craving. He leaned down close enough that I could feel his breath on my lips before pushing himself up and opening the front door.

"Get out." I pushed myself off the floor before walking over to him. He was adjusting his suit by buttoning his shirt and readjusting his collar. I stopped next to him and turned.

"Until the end," I purred. Jim stared at me but no smirk laced his lips this time.

"Until the end," he responded his voice dripping with venom. I smirked at him before bouncing out of the building. The air smelled of rain and the clouds covered the sky. I breathed out and smiled up at the sun trying to peak through a crack in the darkness. This is it boys. This is war.

* * *

**AN: **WOOT WOOT! Alright guys, that was awesome. A little short but it got the point across yes? All of my other chapters are written and ready to go so I'm just going to wait a few days before posting again, I promise this time I won't make you wait. **ATTENTION READ THIS PART PLEASE AND THANK YOU! **I have come to my own conclusion that after my last chapter I will be wrapping this up in a ribbon and sending it to the finished pile. Now don't be heart broken. THEN, when season three comes out and ends I will start a sequel if you all wish. If you have any other suggestions I am open to hear them but I can't guarantee that I will do it. I am open however to anything you guys have to say! Thank you for going on this crazy ride with me and I'll update in a few days! I'm out! Much Love – **Jenna**

* * *

**Review Replies:**

**Sara: **So sorry it took so long to update! Thank you so much for reviewing and following my story. I became one of those writers I hate, the ones that take FOREVER to update. I know it's hard because you're probably reading other stories and getting confused in story lines is really easy so I'm sorry for the late update! The next update will be really fast I promise!

**Emma:** Hahaha! I love your reviews! Good ol' Straylock! Do you have a love/hate relationship with Moriarty too? I love him cause he's amazing but he tried to kill Sherlock and caused a bunch of stuff to happen so I hate him but I'm really sad he's not coming back for another season :/

**FeliciaFelicus: **I felt I needed to do that so you could understand her better so I'm glad you enjoyed! Yeah, I want to wait because I don't want to do injustice to the new season and now I hear they're making a season four so I'm going to have to go super in depth with whatever I'm going to do. I think I'm going to make it a sequel and just do everything on that after these next few chapters. We'll see! Thanks for the review!


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: **I told you it wouldn't take a long time! All of ya'll are losing faith in me! So this is the second to the last chapter. How's everyone feeling about that? I'm really freakin' nervous. I know that this whole story has been pretty short but I try to keep to the series as much as possible and the series is pretty short as we all sadly are aware of. But hey, the new season is coming out soon and they're throwing hints all over the place! Thank god for Tumblr. I'm not a fan of spoilers but little hints keep me happy. I had to wait four years for the new Star Trek movie to come out and I almost went insane… Now I'm waiting for Star Wars because if J.J Abrams is making them then they have to be good. He's a genius. Anyway, now I'm rambling. Here we go!

**Disclaimer: **However much I wish to own this spark of genius; I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters or scenes that I may take from the spectacular show. I do however own my own character and ask that if you must use her in anything, to ask me first! Much thanks!

* * *

**Hostile Correspondence**

**Chapter 8:**

Sherlock and John were trying to solve the case of two kids going missing at a boarding school when they came to get me. Apparently Sherlock wanted us to go see Molly so we could all put our heads together and find out everything that was in these shoe prints on the floor. Personally I'm terrible at science but Sherlock said I would be the one that was good company so that meant that I was going whether I wanted to or not.

We stopped at a vending machine and grabbed two bags of chips before walking down the hall and bumping into Molly Hooper. She tried to tell Sherlock she had lunch plans but of course he didn't listen and of course she was going to give into him because there's no one in the world she'd rather give into.

We found a lot of what was in the shoes but there was one thing we couldn't find. Sherlock and Molly were on a roll while John and I tried to put as much together mentally as possible. I knew this was Jim's doing but I didn't know why and I didn't know where he was keeping them. Somewhere secluded and abandoned most likely but that doesn't make any difference since there are tons of places like that around the London area alone. All I know is that those kids are running out of time. The first 24 hours are the most crucial and we were running out of time to waste.

I was standing in the back of the room trying to get into Jim's mind and running over and over the things in my head looking for a hint when I heard Sherlock mumble to himself.

"I.O.U," Sherlock mumbled while examining something in the microscope. I merely glanced from the side of my eye but Molly turned completely towards him.

"What did you mean by I.O.U?" She asked confused, "You said I.O.U. You were muttering it while you were working." Molly has this problem with rambling when she talks to Sherlock and she always gets lost in her words which annoys him to no end but he respects her and thinks of her as a friend even if she didn't think so.

"Nothing, mental note." I thought that was going to be the end of the conversation until I noticed Molly just staring at him till a minuscule smile came to her face.

"You look a bit like my dad. He's dead. Oh, sorry…" Molly rambled off and it made me smile. She was amusing sometimes. Sherlock looked up from his work and stared blankly at her.

"Molly, please don't feel the need to make conversation. It's really not your area." Molly brushed the comment and obvious insult aside and thought a moment before speaking again and more steady this time.

"When he was dying he was always cheerful. He was lovely except when he thought no one could see. I saw him once. He looked sad," Molly trailed off. I could see Sherlock wanted her to make a point so she would stop talking so he groaned her name.

"You look sad when you think they can't see you," Molly finalized and I could sense Sherlock glance at John and I before turning back to her. "Are you okay? And don't say that you are because I know what that means looking sad when you think no one can see you."

"You can see me," Sherlock pointed out but Molly shook her head.

"I don't count. What I'm trying to say is, if there's anything I can do, anything you need, anything at all, you can have me. No, I just mean… I mean, if there's anything you need, its fine." Molly stopped obviously embarrassed at the awkward situation she created.

"But what could I need from you?" Sherlock questioned quietly.

Molly shook her head, "Nothing, I don't know. You could probably say thank you actually…"

Sherlock stared at her for a moment before saying thank you. Molly then went off to get some food. I took this time to look over at Sherlock who was staring at me. I sent him a weak smile which he returned before looking to John who was racing over. They were in a heated discussion before Sherlock jumped up, motioned to me and ran out the door. We were at the police station quick enough and it felt extremely awkward being there.

Everyone stared at me and I kept my eyes to the floor trying to make myself as small as possible. John reached back and took my hand as we kept in time with Sherlock and Lestrade. They were discussing places the kids may be and trying to lower the locations down to one.

"What is she doing here?" a young woman asked. I turned to look at her and the pure look of disgust and distrust on her face made me exceedingly uncomfortable.

"Yes, what are you doing here Straya? You've certainly made a big name for yourself since the last time we met," Lestrade enquired and I didn't feel as judged when he asked so I smiled to him.

"And then I destroyed it just as fast. I took the names to the government and was given a clean slate," I replied smugly once I saw the surprised looks on John and Sherlock's faces and the confusion on the other officers. They went on with what they were doing and it didn't take Sherlock long to figure out where the kids were. They all left and I decided to wait for them at the office and spin around in a rolly chair. Everyone was still staring at me so every time I caught someone I would stare at them until they freaked out and turned away leaving me smiling.

It didn't take long for them to return. I stood and raced towards my friends.

"Are they okay? Was it Moriarty?" I asked quickly. John nodded and we walked back into the other room.

"Yes, they're fine Straya. We believe it was Moriarty since no one else was there and he left little clues that hinted at him," John filled me in. I nodded.

"The professionals are done if you amateurs want to go ask questions now," the snotty woman announced. I glared at her before following the boys. As soon as they opened the door and the girl Claudette saw Sherlock, she began screeching at the top of her lungs and tears began streaming down her face like a fountain. Greg pushed him out and was about to pull me until the girl ran over and jumped into my arms.

I held her in confusion as she cried into my shoulder and clung to me for dear life. I had never met this girl which means both the screaming and the attachment must have come from Jim messing with their minds. I hummed into her ear and soothed her by rubbing circles on her back and swaying gently side to side.

I could hear raised voices from outside the door. Questions such as "Why did she scream?" "Why is she clinging to her?" "Do they know each other?" floated around but out of all those voices I didn't hear Sherlock as one of them meaning his was thinking through what happened. Thankfully, Lestrade didn't seem too phased about her screaming so much as her clinging to me after. Once Claudette calmed I gave her back to the lady and walked out. If all eyes weren't on me before, they were now.

"Did you know her?" Greg asked confused. I shook my head.

"No, I don't know why she came to me. I'm not really a kid person so I definitely don't know any that would run up and hug me," I lied since I knew Jim was behind all of this.

"That is so strange…" the woman spoke and I rolled my eyes at her obvious answer. I walked over to Sherlock and touched his shoulder. He was off in his own world so I just leaned on him and waited for everything to be okay again. When we left he was still completely out of it and I decided that I needed to grab something from my flat. There were some papers there that I needed to burn of my old life that I forgot I had and being in that place reminded me of the importance of it.

I hugged John goodbye and gave Sherlock a kiss on the cheek before racing down the street. It was extremely dark outside and I didn't want to get caught out here by myself. There didn't seem to be many people out, if any at all. That's why it was strange when I heard footsteps close behind me. I made a couple of turns only to discover that the person was following me. I turned a corner and spun around to hit the person but was knocked out instead. I fell to the ground and darkness over took me.

* * *

I could faintly hear music playing in the recess of my mind. My head ached and my body was restrained but I was in a sitting position so that was good. I wasn't on a bed and that was a plus in my mind. I tried to open my eyes but the light only caused my head to hurt more so my eyes closed shut and squeezed as my head bounced around. I began taking deep breathes and tried to remember what happened before this. I was walking to my apartment and someone was following me, then I was hit on the back of the head. So, someone kidnapped me…

Then everything clicked. The song that was playing was "Stayin' Alive" and it sounded like it was coming from a phone. Jim kidnapped me. This news forced my eyes to fling open and force the pain away as I searched my surroundings. I was hidden in a corner behind a wall and we were obviously on a roof top somewhere. The sound of a door opening made me jump and I stopped all my movement to listen.

I could hear Sherlock and Jim's voices but they were muffled by the city traffic and the street life of London. They talked for a while till I heard footsteps approach me. My mouth was covered by tape, my hands were taped to the chair and so were my feet. There was no way I was going anywhere any time soon so I glared at the approaching figure. I struggled and he shushed me before grabbing the back of the chair and dragging me across the rooftop to where Sherlock was standing and stopped me right at the edge. Sherlock looked absolutely terrified. I could see the panic in his eyes.

"You're ordinary just like her," Jim stated while running his hand over my hair. I tried to move away but he grabbed my neck and kept me looking at Sherlock.

"Let her go Moriarty, she has nothing to do with this," Sherlock pleaded, his eyes never leaving mine. I could feel the moisture gather in my tear ducks for I knew this is the moment Jim talked about. The moment I would have to tell Sherlock everything otherwise Jim would fill his mind with lies and deceit.

"Oh," Jim began bending down to kiss the top of my head, "Straya Parker has everything to do with this. She was all part of the grand design, weren't you my dear?" The tears were loose now, running ramped all down my face.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock pondered, the confusion dripping into the words. I shook my head and looked down at the ground.

"Why," he began while pulling my head up by my hair and then ripping the tape of my mouth, "doesn't she tell you." I didn't scream but the tears increased at the pain from the tape. Words wouldn't come to me as I stared at him, his face beginning to fill with betrayal, starting to understand.

"I… I was working with Jim. He's the one who saved me from my life in New York all those years ago. He's the one who brought me here. What seems like forever ago, he asked me to help him on a mission to completely destroy someone's life. All I had to do was get close. That person was you, Sherlock." I could see the tears gathering in his eyes as he looked away from me. His hands were clenched in fists and I could see him shaking. "Then I met you and we became such good friends and I began to realize that I loved you. Everything changed the moment you told me to meet you in the park and I saw that the person inside of you was something beautiful. You weren't a job to me and don't let Jim tell you that. Sherlock, you and I…" Sherlock cut me off by a loud yell.

"No! You have to be lying to me," Sherlock wept as he fell to the ground in front of me, placing his hands on mine. "Please, tell me this is all a trick set up by Moriarty to hurt me. Please…"

I looked him in the eyes since I was sobbing now. I looked down and an aching cry escaped my lips. My whole body was shaking and I could see Jim from the corner of my eye staring at me. I could see the wheels in his head turning. He was torn between letting me go and completely destroying me right now. Jim was two people: The man I once loved and the monster inside. The monster presided. He pushed Sherlock back and pulled my chair back past the side so I was slightly hanging over the roof. Sherlock couldn't move as he watched in horror. A knife was then placed to neck as he slowly cut into the flesh, deep but not deep enough to kill me. I winced and cried out a bit as the blood seeped into my shirt and down my chest.

"Does it pain you to know that she's always been mine Sherlock?" Jim mocked and pushed the blade down further from the other cut causing me to yelp again. Sherlock stood up this time and took a step forward but Jim pointed the knife at him and pushed me back farther. "Uh, uh, uh… not if you want her to live." Sherlock stopped and stood straight and just stared at me. For the first time since I've known him I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Did you almost start to wonder if I was real? Did I nearly get you?" Jim asked as he lowered me down all the way with the knife now positioned over my heart.

"Richard Brook," Sherlock stated now trying to draw the attention away from me and back to the problem at hand.

"Nobody seems to get the joke, but you do."

"Of course."

"Atta boy."

"Richard Brook in German is Reichenbach, the case that made my name."

"Just trying to have some fun," Jim stated as Sherlock began tapping his fingers in code, "Good you got that too."

"Beats like digits. Every beat is a one. Every rest is a zero, binary code," Sherlock stated and I closed my eyes. I knew what they were walking about and there is no such thing. If there were I would have it with my job skills. "That's why all those assassins tried to save my life. It was hidden on me. Hidden inside my head. A few simple lines of computer code that can break into any system."

"Told all my clients last one to Sherlock is a sissy," Jim poked fun and finally took his knife away from me and placed it into his pocket.

"Yes, but now that it's up here, I can use it to alter all the records. I can kill Richard Brook and bring back Jim Moriarty," Sherlock finished. He was proud of himself but that was short lived when Jim began shaking his head in anger.

"No, no, no, no, no, this is too easy, this is too easy. There is no key dufus! Those digits are meaningless. They're utterly meaningless. Is that what you think? A couple of lines of computer code are gonna crash the world around our ears? I'm disappointed. I'm disappointed in you," Jim mumbled before beginning to mimic Sherlock, "I'm Sherlock Holmes and I…"

"But the rhythm," Sherlock muttered lost.

"Partita Number One. Thank you Johann Sebastian Bach!" Jim yelled before slumping away from Sherlock like a child whose favorite toy was just taken away. He couldn't believe Sherlock had been this stupid.

"Then how did you…" Sherlock began.

"Then how did I break into the Bank of England, to the tower, to the prison?" Jim finished while giving Sherlock a moment to think, "Daylight robbery! All it takes is some willing participants. I knew you'd fall for it! That's your weakness. You always want everything to be clever. Now, shall we finish the game? One final act. Glad you chose a tall building. Nice way to do it."

Sherlock was speechless, "Do what?" It took him a moment but he turned to look at Jim when he understood. "Yes, of course. My suicide."

""Genius Detective Proved to be a Fraud." I read it in the papers so it must be true. I love newspapers, fairytales, and pretty grim ones too."

"I can still prove that you created an entirely false identity," Sherlock stated trying to work his mind around a way out of this. He turned to look at me again and I could barely look him in the eye. Tears were still streaming down my face and my body ached and was weak from the loss of blood.

"Oh just kill yourself. It's a lot less effort," Jim whined. "Go on, for me, pleaseeee," And before I knew it Sherlock had Jim hanging off the edge and the only thing keeping him from falling was the tight grip Sherlock had on his shirt.

"You're insane," Sherlock insults.

"You're just getting that now? Woo…" Jim flailed his arms and clenched his body whilst grabbing onto Sherlock for support so he didn't fall. I stared at the two my eyes wide and my mouth wide open.

"Okay," Jim continued, "Let me give you a little extra incentive. Your friends will die if you don't."

"John?" Sherlock asked immediately and I was slightly hurt that it wasn't me but considering the circumstances I wasn't exactly surprised but the terror in Sherlock's voice showed Jim that he definitely hit a soft spot.

"Not just John, everyone."

"This is insane."

"Everyone!" Jim yelled.

"Lestrade?" Sherlock questioned.

"Three bullets, three gunmen, four victims," Jim replied and Sherlock looked at him strangely before turning to me in horror and then down at the knife that was once again pointed at my heart. "There's no stopping them now unless my people see you jump." Sherlock pulled Jim up and stumbled backwards pulling his hands through his hair. He was racing through his mind trying to figure out how to get out of this mess and even I knew there was no escape, no going back.

"You can have me arrested, you can torture me, you can do anything you like with me but nothing's going to prevent them from pulling the trigger. Your only four friends in the world will die unless…" Jim stopped waiting for him to finish his sentence.

"Unless I kill myself, complete your story." Sherlock muttered as he walked over to the side and looked below.

"You have to admit that's sexier," Jim teased. My tears had dried and I turned to look at Sherlock as I attempted to give him any strength that he would need to get through this. He stared at me searching for answers.

_"I don't think I have the strength to take him down without you…" _

That night raced through my mind. That was the last time Sherlock and I had talked to each other alone without any interruptions. I should have told him then, I should have saved him from this bullshit but I figured if I found a way to stop Jim this wouldn't happen.

"I die in disgrace," Sherlock whispers as if talking only to me. I shake my head slightly to him as a pained look crawls on my face.

"Well, of course, that's the point of this. Look, you got an audience now," Jim states as he looks down to a few people walking along the street. "Off your butt! Go on. I told you this is how it ends. Your death is the only thing that's gonna call off the killers. I'm certainly not going to do it."

"Can you give me a moment, please? One moment of privacy, please?" Sherlock begs.

"Of course," Jim agrees as he turns to walk away and he cuts me loose and takes me with him. Sherlock was standing on the edge now staring out at London when an idea popped into my head. He wouldn't do it… I looked back at Sherlock hoping he would look back to me to say goodbye and he didn't disappoint. As we were halfway off the roof I stared at Sherlock as if sending him my thoughts. Then, Sherlock began to smile. Then he began to laugh and Jim made us stop.

"What? What is it? What did I miss?" Jim groaned and made a scene like an infant. Sherlock hopped down and stalked towards us.

"You're not going to do it? So the killers can be called off. Then there's a recall code or a word or a number. I don't have to die if I've got you," Sherlock shares and I smile at him as he sends me a silent wink while Jim processes it all.

"Oh," it took Jim a second but then he began to laugh. "You think you can make me stop the order? You think you can make me do that?" Jim challenged.

"Yes," Sherlock began, "So do you."

"Sherlock, your big brother and all the king's horses couldn't make me do a thing I didn't want to."

"Yes," Sherlock replied and stepped forward so he was in Jim's face and so he could secretly grab my hand without Jim noticing. "But I'm not my brother, remember? I am you, prepared to do anything. Prepared to burn. Prepared to do what ordinary people won't do. You want me to shake hands with you in hell, I shall not disappoint you."

Jim paused for a moment, looked him up and down before shaking his head, "No," he began, "You talk big. No, you're ordinary. You're ordinary. You're on the side of the angels."  
"I may be on the side of the angels but don't think for one second that I am one of them." Sherlock threatened. Jim stared at him while the wind gushed across our faces and swirled in the air. Sherlock didn't take his eyes off of Jim while he squeezed my hand. He knew this was going to work. Jim was beaten.

"No… you're not. I see you're not ordinary. No, you're me. You're me. Thank you Sherlock Holmes," Jim took Sherlock's other hand and shook it but not before staring at my hand laced with his. His gaze turned to me then back to Sherlock. "Thank you. Bless you. As long as I'm alive you can save your friends, you've got a way out. Well," Jim stopped and looked at me. He gave me a smile, a true smile. It was the smile of Jim... The smile of the man I loved. "Good luck with that."

Before I could do anything Jim pulled a gun from his pocket, Sherlock pulled his hand away from both our grasps. A scream came from inside me as the gun was placed inside Jim's mouth and he pulled the trigger. I fell to the floor and the scream that escaped my lips was uncontrollable.

"NO!" I bellowed as I draped myself over Jim's body. Sherlock was pacing, running his fingers through his hair. The smile on Jim's face was haunting and the tears that came from my eyes and soaked his shirt would never go away. I traced my fingers over his eyes to close them and rested my forehead against his. I could sense Sherlock race towards the side of the building so I forced myself to look at Jim one last time. I placed a gentle kiss on his forehead before forcing myself up. Sherlock was standing before the edge and I raced over to him.

Pulling him around I tried to reason with him, "Look, we can figure this out. There has to be some other way, Sherlock!" He shook his head as tears began to form.

"There is no other way… I have to do this, Straya. If I don't Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, and John… they'll all be dead. I can't be selfish. You can't be selfish, not this time…" Sherlock finished as his hands traced down my face, wiping away the tears. I pulled him to me, my hands strong around his neck as his hands clung to my waist.

"How can I live on without you? Everything I am now is because of you… Jim didn't save me… Jim found me. You saved me… You… Oh God Sherlock…" I wept into his neck and his grasp just tightened as he shook. I pulled back to look at him and to say something but was silenced as his lips crashed down onto mine. I stared wide eyed at him but my eyes closed quickly due to his being closed as well as if he was in a dream. My fingers stroked through his curly hair and his hands ran up and down my back. We parted breathless and he rested his forehead against mine.

"I need you to be there for John. He won't understand…" Sherlock croaked out and my voice cracked in a terrible cry. I tried to speak but Sherlock shook his head. "I need you to promise me, Straya. You're the only person I trust with this." I clung to his shirt and he was trying so hard to keep it together.

"I promise…" I whispered. Sherlock nodded weakly and pushed my bangs out of the way so he could kiss my forehead.

"Now go… he's going to need you there…" Sherlock turned and stepped onto the edge. I gave him one last glance before racing past Jim and down the stairs. I was out of breath by the time I reached ground level but it didn't take long to find John. He was standing in the middle of street on the phone staring up at Sherlock, fear evident on his face.

I raced to John who was reaching for me. I got to him and he grabbed my arm and pulled me to him. "Dear god, what is he doing? What's going on?" John didn't cry, he was an army man, but the pain and terror in his voice was enough to get me crying again. I brushed my hand over his cheek and shook my head. "What? Why are you saying this? Sherlock! Okay, Sherlock, shut up, shut up. The first time we met, the first time we met you know all about my sister. Huh?" I could barely hear what Sherlock was saying but I faintly heard this.

"No one could be that clever," his voice was weak and broken.

"You could. No, stop it now." John ordered as he began to walk forward but I heard Sherlock yell and I pulled him back.

"All right. Do what? Leave a note when?" John asked miserably. I choked on a sob and John turned to look at me as the final realization set in. "No, don't… Sherlock… SHERLOCK!" I looked up to see Sherlock falling through the air, arms and legs flailing and I closed my eyes and screamed. John wrapped his arms around me as he screamed Sherlock's name. I could hear the hit. I could hear the pain. People began gathering and I saw John race over only to be ran into by a bike. I sprinted over and helped him up. He pushed me away lightly before stumbling over to Sherlock. There was blood everywhere… People pulled John away as the doctors put Sherlock on a stretcher and pushed him away.

I pulled John into me as he bawled into my shoulder. "No… No… my best friend… Sherlock… no…" He mumbled over and over again. My tears soaked John's shirt as I heard the sirens whirl around me and the people mumble. Sherlock Holmes… was dead.

* * *

**AN:** … Let's just take a moment to cry. Did anyone else just die at this part? I think a little piece of me died inside when I saw Sherlock fall and then just to see him again. Freakin' A! Who does that?! Writers… I guess I can relate hahaha. Alright, so we're almost done everyone! One more chapter and we're ready to set this piece to rest. Thank you everyone for being so amazing and once again, if you have any ideas about continuing this, please share. Don't forget to review since you only have two more chapters left to hit that pretty little button down there! Thank you all for being just amazing. Much Love – **Jenna**

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**Review Replies:**

**Emma: **My point exactly. Jim Moriarty is… a paradox. Haha. I'm really glad you liked the ending because it's one of my favorite parts that I've written in this story so far! Yeah, I know, but if you like Benedict and you like Star Trek I'm writing another story to pass the time so maybe that will help! That's only if you actually like Star Trek though haha. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: **Drum roll please! This is the last and final chapter of "Hostile Correspondence!" How does everyone feel? Anxious? Depressed? Excited? Terrified? I'm all four at the same time so don't you worry your little heads about anything cause I'm the one who has to write it! Endings to me are the hardest to write because you really have to satisfy yourself and convince yourself that you did your story and your characters justice. This technically isn't the end because I will be doing a sequel but it is the end for a while and I guess that just makes me really sad. I like how I'm going to end this but I hope you do too. If not, well... as my best friend would say, go fall**. This chapter is going to be pretty short but that's because it's the end and the end is usually pretty short. Think of it as an epilogue.** Here we go my friends.

**Disclaimer:** However much I wish to own this spark of genius; I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters or scenes that I may take from the spectacular show. I do however own my own character and ask that if you must use her in anything, to ask me first! Much thanks!

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**Hostile Correspondence**

**Chapter 9:**

It had been days since the fall and John was a mess. He went to see his shrink but he came back almost worse than before he left. I tried to help as much as I could but every time I looked at him all I could think was how I lied and how John didn't know the truth and he deserved to. At the moment he was making eggs and coffee while I was going through Sherlock's stuff. The funeral was extremely small. Mycroft didn't even make an appearance which was sickening.

I was hanging on but John could barely function. The only reason he was even trying at this point was because I was here. I sold my flat and moved into John's to keep him company. John refused to go back to 221B so I grabbed a bunch of Sherlock's papers and brought it over. No matter how hard it was, Sherlock was gone and the faster we got rid of his stuff, or at least put it away or put it to good use, the faster we'd be able to heal and move on.

John placed a plate in front of me and a cup of coffee without sugar. His plate barely had anything on it but he had two coffee mugs and I could smell some whiskey in one of them, if not both. I sighed and grabbed a hold of John's arm.

"John, do you think alcohol is a good idea this early in the morning?" I asked gently making sure I looked him in the eyes to show my concern. John just raised an eyebrow and chugged some of his coffee down before answering.

"Well Straya, its happy hour somewhere in the world, right?" he drank more and then took a small bite of his eggs. I removed my hand, sighing, and went back to work.

"I don't know what we're going to do with all of his things… He didn't have a will, he didn't really have a family and he never told us what he wanted to do with anything. Mycroft won't answer my phone or house calls and neither you nor Mrs. Hudson knows what to do with it. I'm at a loss here, John." I gave up and threw the work I had onto a pile before leaning back, ignoring the food placed before me. I wasn't hungry anymore… I was never hungry. Jim was buried in the same cemetery as Sherlock and I hadn't gone to either to pay my respects. The thought of this whole ordeal made me sick. I had been having nightmares for days which lead to absolutely no sleep and I felt as if I was going insane.

I leaned over and rubbed my eyes in exhaustion. John stared at me before clearing his throat. My head snapped up as my attention turned to him and not my aching body.

"Yes?" I mumbled.

It took him a moment but he found his strength to speak, "Is there something wrong?" I was about to point out the obvious when he stopped me, "No, I mean… I know the whole ordeal with Moriarty and Sherlock is traumatizing but it seems like there's something else going on in the brain of yours and I can't quite figure out what it is. Anything you want to share with me? You know I'm here to listen and help." I opened my mouth but it closed instantly. How would I even begin?

I did want to tell John everything. He deserved to know and keeping it a secret for the rest of our lives was not the right path to take by any means. I stood and went to the window.

"John… I was working with Moriarty…" I whispered.

* * *

Currently I was sitting on the door steps of John's apartment building. It was raining and I could still hear him cursing because he left the window open. I sighed and watched the clouds roll by as the rain soaked my body. As I figured, he didn't take the news very well and threw me out. Though he didn't give me my suitcases so I'm assuming he's just taking time to cool off. If not, I'd stalk him and make him take me back because I made a promise… A promise I refuse to break.

The door cracked open behind me and I jumped up and watched as John stared at me through the crack.

"I'm sorry," he began, "It's not really your fault. In the end you were kept by fear not love. Do you want to come back in? You're welcome to stay… I'm not kicking you out or anything…" I smiled at him, swung the door open and pulled him into a hug.

"I'm not going anywhere soldier. I'm staying right here at my post, with you. Okay?" I looked him in the eye as I asked him the last part. He nodded and smiled softly back at me.

"I want to see him today… I need to see him today…" John whispered, broken. I nodded.

"I'll call Mrs. Hudson. All three of us will go see him, okay?" John agreed and we got ready. John was in his normal suit and I was helping with the collar and his buttons making sure he looked sharp.

"I still hate you…" he mumbled and I smiled gently at him.

"I know Dear John, I know."

We then grabbed a cab to go buy flowers. I wore Sherlock's favorite dress of mine. Black lace at the top, chiffon black layered on the bottom and cap sleeves with a skin colored backing at the bust and waist. I bought one black rose for Jim and a dozen pink and yellow roses for Sherlock with daisies intertwined. We picked up Mrs. Hudson and none of us said a word on the way to the cemetery and neither of them asked what the black rose was for, for that I was thankful.

The rain had ceased and the clouds floated endlessly across the sky, the sun peeking through every now and then. We walked arm in arm to the grave of Sherlock Holmes. It was black granite with a simple "Sherlock Holmes" engraved into it. It was a grave of a disgraced man… a secretive man.

We all stood there and just stared.

Mrs. Hudson was the first to speak, "There's all this stuff, all his scientific equipment. I left it all in boxes. I don't know what needs doing. I thought I'd take it to a school. Would you?"

"I can't go back to the flat again. Not at the moment. I'm angry," John confessed his physique changing.

"It's okay, John. It's nothing unusual in that," Mrs. Hudson began and then started to name all the ways he made her angry when he was alive, "That's the way he made everyone feel. All the marks on my table and the noise, firing guns at half past 1 o' clock in the morning."

"Yeah," John simply agreed though I could tell he was frustrated with her since his anger was of a different kind. I laced my arm through his and leaned my head on his shoulder.

"Bloody specimens in my fridge. Imagine! Keeping bodies where there's food!" Mrs. Hudson went on to complain. In a way these memories made me smile. They were all the things I missed most about Sherlock.

"Yeah," John mumbled again trying to be polite in the best way he could.

Mrs. Hudson kept at it though not taking a hint, "And the fighting drove me up the wall with all his carryings on!"

John had enough, "Yeah, listen, I'm not actually that angry okay?"

Mrs. Hudson stopped suddenly in understanding and placed her hand on his shoulder, "Okay, I'll leave you alone to… you know…" She began to walk away and I turned to walk a bit with her.

"Mrs. Hudson, I'll come by and take the science supplies to the school if you wish," I offered. She smiled gently at me.

"Oh dear, that would be wonderful," she answered before holding my hand for a bit, "You are always such a sweet girl. He was lucky to have you and John is very lucky that you're still here for him. He needs you my dear." With that she was gone and I stumbled back to John talking to the grave I stopped and listened.

"Um, you… You told me once that you weren't a hero. Um, there were times I didn't even think you were human," I smiled thinking back to the robot and Spock references of the past, "but let me tell you one thing. You were the best man and the most human… human being that I've ever known and no one will ever convince me that you told me a lie. That's so… there." John stumbles forward and touches the grave as I hear the grief in his voice and the cry on his lips. I rush forward and put my arms around him and he leans back into me.

He continues as he holds onto my hand and his other touches the top of the grave, "I was so alone and I owe you so much." He begins to walk away before racing back. "Now please, there's just one more thing, just one more thing. One more miracle, Sherlock, for me." The pain laced in his words brought tears to my eyes as it took everything in me not to bawl right there and then. I had to be strong for John, just like I promised. I can't be selfish, it's not about me. "Don't be dead." Oh god… "Would you do that just for me? Just stop it. Stop this." And the cries that came tore my heart apart. I embraced John, pulling him to me. He cried in me for a while before straightening up and was back to the emotionless soldier he'd been since the fall.

"I'm ready to go," John announced and I nodded.

"You go. I need some time. There's some… things I need to do. I'll catch my own cab home alright?" I tried to put it as delicately as possible considering I didn't want to say I was going to Jim's grave as well. John nodded, squeezed my hand then left. I turned and knelt in front of Sherlock's grave placing the flowers down in the hole. I leaned my forehead against the stone and breathed deeply trying to control my emotions.

"I miss you. The worst part is waking up every day knowing that you're not here anymore. It's… it's unbearable. John cries in his sleep, I'm plagued with nightmares and I don't know what to say to make him feel better. He needs a distraction and I keep thinking a girl would help but he has the worse track record. Then again, that's when you were here… Don't worry Sherlock. I'll take care of him just like I promised I would." Tears were flowing down freely but I didn't break down like I normally did. I kissed my fingertips and touched them to his name before whispering, "I love you."

I grabbed my black rose and made my way through the mass of graves before reaching a small stone under a tree. _James Moriarty _it read. I sighed and knelt down in front of my lost lover's grave. I placed the rose simply in front of the stone and stared at it.

"You… drive me crazy, you know that right? You come into my life as a lover, a friend, family and then you turn into this demon that I didn't expect, who pleased himself by torturing me only to leave me again in redemption. What gives you the right?!" My voice rose at the end. "I'm so angry at you and that makes me feel terrible because your dead and I wish… I wish I had told you one more time that I loved you. You were my first everything. First love. First real kiss. First crush. First lover. First real family. First home. First crash. First burn. First hate. Now you're gone and I'm not sure what to do. You took everything from me only to restore my bitter hope in the end. Did you ever love me?" I didn't cry this time. I was too angry. I was too hurt to cry. "I sure hope you're dancing in hell right now Jim because that means I'll probably be meeting you down there." I stood and glanced at the grave one more time before turning. I was stopped in my tracks. Oh my god…

I gasped, "Oh my god."

"I heard you missed me," a smug, over confident, pain in the ass, smart ass voice teased.

"Sherlock…"

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**AN:** BOOM! Don't hate me… I really wanted it to end like this and I got it to end like this so please, don't kill me, okay? Now you have a wonderful sequel to look forward to! I want to know your overall impression of the story so don't be afraid to PM me or review and ask me a question. If you're a guest and have some good questions you can email me at **FanFictionSoars21** at gmail. If you just want to keep in contact or want to see other stories I'm writing or what not go ahead and PM me or email me. I'm a pretty nice person so you shouldn't have to worry *wink*. Haha, anyway, thank you for coming on this journey with me. I'm going to put an alert chapter on this story when I write the sequel and I think I'm going to try to write it all at once so I can just post whenever I need to. That's easier and I don't know why I don't already do that now. Um, if you have any ideas you want me to write or want an opinion on, I do that a lot so don't be afraid to ask! Thanks for being so amazing. Much love for the last time on this story – **Jenna**

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**Review Reply:**

**FeliciaFelicis:** Ugh, I die every time at the grave, it's always such a hard, hard part to watch and I've seen it around five times. Oh, I was so excited when he showed up again! I was screaming hahaha. Well thanks for reviewing on the last one, it was fantastic! Thanks for always being really supportive with this story and staying the whole way through!

**Emma:** Scene kills me every time. Yeah, Star Trek should definitely be your next go to movie because it's brilliant and I do have a good idea for a fanfic so we'll see how it goes. I'll try my best but now that schools starting and I have other activities things are going to get hectic again sadly. Thanks for following this story till the end, can't wait for the sequel and don't worry, some slapping will be necessary!

**Madam Hawki:** Aw, thank you so much, that is an amazing compliment for a writer to receive! Hope no one gave you funny looks when you were crying in class! That's something I would do! Yeah, I love Jim but he definitely needed to go. Straya will definitely be there for John, no worries there! Thanks for getting invested in my story and taking your time to review!


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